Partners, Parents and the Past
by GilmoreWomen
Summary: Follows immediately after "Husbands and Other Partners.” Hope’s visit stirs Lorelai to examine the long ignored impact of her actions. By UnaVitaSegreta, WhreofBabylon, and OldFashionedGrl. A Lorelai and Emily story that features both Richard and Luke.
1. Doughnuts, Deliveries, and Discussions

**_Doughnuts, Deliveries and Discussions_**

Lorelai snuck into the living room still in her pajamas, a mug of steaming coffee cradled in both hands. Rory was asleep on the couch. Using her hip, she scooched Rory's legs over and sat down next to her.

"Hey!" Rory mumbled, sleepily cracking her eyes open.

"Good morning, Sunshine," Lorelai chirped.

"Ugh," Rory groaned.

"Did Mommy's little journalist sleep well last night?" she asked cheerily.

Rolling over onto her back, Rory grumbled. "Why are you so perky this morning?"

Lorelai sipped the coffee and grinned at her daughter. "What?" she shrugged, "I'm just glad to have you home is all."

Scooting up against the end of the couch, Rory reached out, making a pitiful attempt to grab the coffee mug. "Gimme."

Lorelai handed it to her. "Boy, we're grouchy this morning."

Rory took a quick swallow. "We're tired this morning," she complained, pushing her hair out of her face. "You would_ not_ go to bed last night."

"Well, I haven't seen you in months," Lorelai countered. "I've got a lot to talk about."

"We talk almost everyday," Rory protested. After drinking more of the coffee, she asked, "What time is it anyway?"

Lorelai shrugged. "About eight, I think."

Rory thrust the mug back at her mother and snuggled down under her blanket again. "What are you even doing up? We don't have to be at Grandma and Grandpa's until eleven."

"And you have to leave right after brunch, so get up." Lorelai gave Rory's shoulder a shove. "We're going to spend the morning together."

"Can't we spend the morning together later?"

"You do remember it's November, don't you? I got your favorite… pumpkin spice doughnuts from Westin's."

Rory opened one eye. "Pumpkin doughnuts?"

"Yep," Lorelai stood up, taking the coffee mug with her and took a half step toward the kitchen, "and you have to get up if you want any before your Aunt Hope and I eat them all."

"Leave the coffee," Rory mumbled sitting up again.

Lorelai held the coffee mug out to her and as Rory reached for it she snatched it away and hurried out of the room. "Come and get it!"

Rory groaned and rubbed her eyes then got up and shuffled into the kitchen. She almost bumped right into Hope, who had slept in her room the night before. Murmuring an apology, she turned for the coffee maker and poured a mug then flopped down in a chair. As she sipped her coffee, she sat in a daze staring at the plate in the center of the table piled high with doughnuts for several long moments before her brain kicked into gear and convinced her hand to reach out and take one.

Hope was the only one dressed. She had on a pair of khaki slacks and a fitted white oxford shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail and tied with a blue and white scarf. She watched Rory with a smile and sat down next to her at the table. "I can sympathize. When did you and your mother finally go to sleep? You were both still going strong at two a.m. when I went to bed."

"You were the smart one, you went to bed. I couldn't get away from her and she would not shut up. I think it was like three thirty, maybe four." Rory took a bite of the doughnut.

"I'm sorry I took your room and your escape path," Hope teased.

"No reason to be sorry, she would have just followed me in there anyway," Rory replied.

"I miss my kid, so sue me," Lorelai defended herself as she took the seat opposite Hope.

"I think it's cute," Hope said reaching for a doughnut. "Now I understand these are special doughnuts?" she asked Rory.

Her coffee and the taste of the pumpkin doughnut kicking in, Rory was beginning to perk up. "Oh yeah. You can only get them between Halloween and Thanksgiving and they are the best doughnuts in the world!"

"You can't even tell they're pumpkin," Lorelai added with a grin just before taking a big bite.

"Well pass me one of these best doughnuts in the world and I'll tell you if I agree, though I am rather partial to beignets, so this better be a darn good doughnut."

Rory held the plate out to her. "Oh, they are."

Hope picked one up and took a bite, smiling as she chewed.

* * *

The doorbell rang and Lorelai rushed to see who was there. From the window in the door she could see the big brown UPS van parked in front of the house and the brown-clad deliveryman at the door. She opened the door with a bright smile. "Hi, Kent, what have you got for me today?" she asked, not seeing a package in his hand.

He nodded to a spot next to the door. "That."

Lorelai's eyes widened excitedly as she saw the large box propped against the house. He handed her the electronic clipboard and she signed quickly. Checking the return address sticker, Lorelai did a jump of joy calling out, "They're here!"

Kent chuckled at her antics. "I can bring it in, if you want?"

"Oh Kent, you're the best. Thanks," Lorelai gushed, opening the door wider and motioning him inside. "Hope you like pumpkin doughnuts."

"From Westin's?" he asked, heading into the living room.

"Where else? I'll get you one." Lorelai hurried into the kitchen.

Hope and Rory exchanged puzzled looks while Kent placed the big box on the coffee table. Rory smiled at him. "Hi, Kent."

"Hi, Rory. How's goes it on the campaign trail?"

"Oh, it's great," Rory answered.

"Here you go," Lorelai announced walking back into the living room with two pumpkin doughnuts on a paper towel.

"Mmmm, thanks," Kent said. "Well, better get going. I've got a bunch more deliveries to make."

Lorelai walked him to the door then turned around a huge grin on her face. "They're here!" She hurried over to the coffee table "They're here! They're here! They're here!"

"What's here?" Rory asked.

"The bridesmaid dresses!" Lorelai answered trying to poke her fingernail into the tape on the seam of the box. She tried several times in several different places. "Damn! What is this? Industrial tape?"

Rory stepped over to the desk and picked up a pair of scissors.

"Ooh! Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!" Lorelai squealed, lunging for the scissors.

Rory held the scissors behind her back. "No! You're too hyper. You'll cut right through the box and into my dress."

Lorelai stuck out her bottom lip and pouted. "Hmf."

"You've seen them," Rory protested. "I don't know what they even look like."

"So!" Lorelai argued. "My wedding. I want to open it."

Rory sighed. "Compromise. We'll let Aunt Hope open it."

"Fine," Lorelai agreed in defeat.

Hope laughed quietly at her niece and grandniece's antics as she took the scissors Rory handed her and carefully opened the box. As soon as she could, Lorelai attacked it, tissue paper flying in all directions. Once her hands touched fabric, she pulled out a dress, holding it upside down.

"Ooh, I like the color," Rory cooed as Lorelai righted the pewter, scooped-neck sleeveless dress and laid it across the couch.

"This one is for April," Lorelai explained.

Hope reached in and drew out the next dress from the box, turning it right side up. It was also pewter, had capped sleeves, a V-shaped neckline, and a full skirt. It was a beautiful dress, but clearly much too large a size to be Rory's.

Rory picked up the last dress in the box and looked at it. "Ohh, Mom. It's beautiful." The dress was floor length with spaghetti straps and a crisscross bodice.

"Oh, Rory, put it on. I have to see it on you," Hope urged her excitedly.

"Yeah! Go! Go! Go!" Lorelai chanted, bouncing up and down.

"Going, going," Rory agreed taking the dress and heading to her room.

Hope picked up April's dress. "These really are lovely dresses. Luke's daughter is what … fourteen? This is perfect."

"Yeah," Lorelai answered, still looking over the dresses, "everyone really needed their own style, but the fabric ties it all together."

"Uh, guys…" Rory called from the doorway. The dress seemed to fit perfectly.

"You're gorgeous!" Hope proclaimed.

"Am I good or what?" Lorelai asked teasingly.

"It does look pretty good, doesn't it?" Rory asked.

"It looks great!" Lorelai answered.

"Come here." Hope motioned her over. "Let me take a closer look. Rory walked over to her and turned around as Hope inspected the fit of the bodice. As Rory relaxed, one thin strap slid down her arm. She lifted it back into place and the other one slipped off.

"Well the straps may need to be shortened," Lorelai noted.

Rory laughed. "Ya think?"

Hope nodded, still giving the fit a critical eye. "The straps are easy enough to fix. Do you have the shoes yet?"

Rory stood up on her tiptoes to approximate heels.

"In your closet on the top shelf," Lorelai answered.

"Really?" Rory asked.

Lorelai shrugged, slightly embarrassed. Rory hurried off to get the shoes and Lorelai followed her. "I know you said you'd find shoes, but these were so cute and they were just the right color and I thought if you like them they'd be perfect for the wedding. If you don't like them, back they go."

Rory had taken down the shoebox and was balancing herself against her mother's shoulder, putting on the strappy heels. Nodding, she held up the skirt of the dress and walked to the door experimentally. "Comfortable so far."

Hope appeared in the doorway to the bedroom. "Adorable. They're just adorable." She walked over to Rory and tugged the dress from her hands so it hung down to the floor.

"I think it needs to be shortened a bit, but that's easy enough." Hope commented, then took the straps and tucked them down into the back of the dress to measure how much to shorten them.

Lorelai waved her hand. "I can do all that, no problem."

"No, you can't," Hope protested.

"Oh, she can," Rory explained. "She's great. She even made my prom dress."

"I'm sure that you're capable, Lorelai," Hope clarified, "but you are not doing alterations on your own bridesmaids' dresses yourself. I won't hear of it. You already have enough to do."

"It's all good." Lorelai walked over to Rory and looked at the stitching on the dress. "This fabric is pretty delicate so there's no redos, but it won't be too much of a problem."

"Lorelai, you are going to be a very busy woman between now and the wedding. I wouldn't feel right standing by and letting you take care of all of this yourself. I won't hear of it."

"It's just that it seems silly to pay someone to do what I can do myself," Lorelai reasoned.

"Who's talking about paying someone?" Hope asked with a grin. "I'll do it for nothing."

"Wow! You sew too?" Rory questioned.

"Well, I haven't made any formal gowns in a while, but I do still sew. Certainly well enough to take care of anything that might need to be altered for you."

"Cool!" Rory declared.

Lorelai smiled at her Aunt, her look a mixture of surprise and awe. "Yeah, cool."

* * *

Emily rolled her head to the side, her eyes still closed as she snuggled closer to her husband. He was lying on his back, his arms wrapped around her. She sighed as she felt Richard's hand running up and down her back, causing her skin to tingle. They remained quiet for a few minutes more until Emily finally broke the silence.

"You're staring at me," she declared, her eyes still closed and her head against Richard's shoulder.

"How do you know that I'm staring at you?" he asked.

"I can feel it," she mumbled.

"Feel it?" he asked. Emily nodded in reply. "How can feel you it?"

"I just can," she insisted. Finally, she opened her eyes and pulled back a bit to look up at her husband. "See, I was correct."

"Well," Richard shrugged, "how can I not stare when such a beautiful woman is lying naked in my arms?"

Emily laughed and rolled her eyes. "Well, stop it. You know it makes me uncomfortable."

"Yes, I do," Richard grinned. "Yet that doesn't provide me with any reason to stop. You're simply too beautiful."

"Oh please," she groaned. "Now I know you are full of it."

"Full of what?" he teased. "Full of love for you?"

"Will you stop it?" she laughed, propping her left arm against his chest and resting her chin on it.

"I'm sorry, Dear. I suppose I'm just giddy that our little …snafu the other night was simply a one time performance glitch."

Emily pulled her arm back and moved to once again lie against his body, resting her head on his shoulder. "I would really prefer not to talk about that," she stated flatly.

"All couples have difficult times," Richard reassured her.

"But we don't," she countered.

"We have once before. I'd say that two times in forty-three years is pretty remarkable."

"We've only been married for forty-two years," Emily corrected him.

"I know precisely how long we've been married, my Dear, as do you," he reminded her trailing his hands down her back and pulling her closer. "I have been thinking about what you've said lately, about the fact that you've spent so many years waiting for me to come home and doing what I want to do. And I'm going to try very hard to be as supportive as I can of what you are doing. I know how much working with Lorelai means to you."

Emily lifted her head up to look at him. "Thank you for that," she smiled. "And I do intend to keep my promise. I am going to resign from some of my obligations."

"That isn't necessary," Richard insisted. "I know they are important to you."

"Some of them are, yes," she agreed. "And some of them are wildly ridiculous. I like to garden as much as anyone else. Yet I do not need to be on the board of the Horticultural Society. They choose different plants to highlight and spend useless hours trying to decide which local celebrity we should get to endorse our annual campaign to save whatever tree or plant from extinction this year."

"And here I thought you loved pointless campaigns," Richard teased.

"There's also the Zoological Institute," she added. "I'm honestly not even that big a fan of dogs. So why should I be on a committee that is aimed at teaching young children about African wildlife?"

Richard chuckled, an image of a fluffy white dog that had once sat outside their sun room flashing through his mind. Emily's frantic phone call had made him out to be a rabid beast. Yet in actuality it was a long-haired Jack Russell terrier. A long-haired Jack Russell terrier named Princess.

"What about the Marina?" Richard asked. "Aren't you on the Board there too?"

Emily rolled her eyes. "That's another one I won't mind resigning. I haven't sailed in years. Why should I be there to help decide what colors we should use to redecorate the clubhouse when we spent no more than a few weeks a year at the Cape?" she asked rhetorically.

"You have been appointed to some rather bizarre boards," Richard agreed. "My personal favorite was the Executive Fundraising Board at the Hartford Humane Society," he chuckled. "The Annual Barking Ball."

Emily couldn't help but laugh at that, too. "They wanted us to dress up as our favorite breed of canine and hold a contest for who had the best costume. I obviously did not remain on that board for long," she noted.

"You have quite a wide range of interests, that's for sure," he agreed.

"Well, my main interest is my husband and from now on I am going to be sure to spend more time with him," she smiled.

"I couldn't be a luckier man," Richard smiled back, squeezing her gently before she pushed herself up slightly to kiss him.

"We are very sentimental today," she commented, sliding her leg between Richard's as she lay next to him.

"Well, you know what a night of passionate love making does to me," he grinned, his hand brushing down her arm sensually.

Emily grinned, blushing as she lowered her head down, averting her eyes for a moment. "What does a morning of passionate love making do to you?" she asked, looking back up at him with a mischievous grin.

"Wouldn't you like to find out?" he teased, sliding his arm around her back and rolling on top of her.

"I have a feeling this means you are going to show me," she moaned as he began to kiss her neck, his hands pinning her wrists to the mattress.

"I believe in the full sensory experience," Richard smirked, winking at her before continuing his assault upon her ivory skin.


	2. A New Routine

**_A New Routine_**

The doorbell rang and Emily hurried into the foyer. "Richard, they're here!" she called out as she reached the door.

Richard appeared from the dining room, a bottle of just opened champagne in one hand. "Yes, dear, I gathered that when I heard the doorbell."

Casting her husband a quick look over her shoulder to let him know he was not the least bit funny, she opened the door. "Rory, Lorelai, come in. Come in."

"Morning Mom," Lorelai replied, somewhat groggy now that it was midmorning and she'd gotten so little sleep.

"Good morning, Grandma," Rory said with a smile as she gave Emily a warm hug.

Emily wrapped her arm around Rory's shoulders and began to walk toward the living room. "Oh, it's so good to have you here." A thought struck her and she turned from Rory to Lorelai clearly puzzled. "Where's your Aunt Hope?"

"She's with Luke. They were right behind us until we hit the light off of the interstate," Lorelai explained as she walked past her mother and daughter and into the living room, flopping down on the sofa.

"She gunned it. Luke did not." Rory continued into the room, sitting down next to her mother. "Hi, Grandpa," she said over her shoulder to Richard where he stood fixing drinks.

"I assumed as much," Emily replied.

"Good morning, Rory." Richard turned around, a tray of champagne flutes in his hands as he walked over to the ladies. "I thought Mimosas were in order this morning. Lorelai…" he held the tray in front of her and Rory.

"Hey, Dad, thanks," she answered taking a glass.

"Yeah, thanks Grandpa, this looks great." Rory also picked up a glass and took a sip. "Mmm."

Richard placed the tray on the coffee table and picked up two glasses. He handed one to Emily and just as he sat next to her on the couch opposite the girls, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," he said standing up and placing his glass on the table.

"So, Rory, we didn't get to talk much last night. My granddaughter, the career woman, tell me all about what life on the road is like," she asked excitedly.

Rory shrugged. "Oh, it's great. I love what I do and being right there on the front lines of the campaign. Sometimes it's fascinating to watch what really happens and then to follow the story in the media and see how quotes and events are distorted. I mean, I know all about that from my journalism classes, but to see it up close. It's a story in itself, the evolution of a story."

"Sounds fascinating," Emily replied. Richard returned to the room alone and sat back down. "Where are Luke and Hope?"

"Luke is taking Hope's bags upstairs and Hope insisted on showing him which room it is herself," he answered. "He says he's never been on the second floor of the house. Can you believe that?"

Emily cocked her head to the side and shrugged with the arm not holding her glass. "Well, what reason would he have had for going upstairs before now?"

"I don't know; it just seems odd that he's been to the house so many times and he's never seen most of it. Lorelai, you should give him a tour."

Lorelai gave her father the standard 'you're crazy but I'm going along with this look.' "Okay, Dad, if you want me to." She turned to Rory, "I'll give him the tour of all my escape routes and hiding places."

Emily raised an eyebrow. "I think I may tag along on this tour myself. I thought I knew all your ways of sneaking out, but you still managed to get by me more times than I care to recall."

"I don't know," Lorelai teased. "I may still need them sometime in the future."

Hope and Luke were heard coming down the stairs and into the foyer. Emily stood up and walked toward them. "There you are."

"Here I am," Hope answered with a grin, holding out her arms to embrace her sister.

Luke watched still somewhat taken aback by this display of casual warmth from his soon-to-be mother-in-law.

Looking over to the coffee table, Hope saw the tray. "Mimosas, I love those."

Emily laughed at Hope's enthusiasm for the beverage and followed her into the living room, extremely happy to have all the people she loved under her own roof. It was a very rare occasion and she was determined to enjoy every moment.

* * *

"I do not believe it," Lorelai choked out between fits of laughter, the plate of fruit in front of her on the table all but forgotten. "My mother dated a guy named Biff."

Emily glared at her sister and clarified, "We did not date. It was one dance and Biff was a nickname. His name was Bradford Collingsworth."

Hope's smile gleamed. "Yes, but that one dance was your Junior Prom."

Lorelai wiped a stray tear from her face as she continued to laugh. "Biff. I still can't get over it… Biff. That's just so "Back to the Future" of you, Mom."

Rory was laughing too but stopped after checking her watch. "I'm really having so much fun that I hate to do this, but I gotta go. My plane leaves in almost two hours."

Richard smiled at her from the end of the table. "Rory, thank you again for being part of your Grandmother's surprise."

"Oh it was my pleasure," she smiled.

"Yes, thank you Rory," Emily said. "My birthday just wouldn't have been the same without you. It's a shame you have to leave so soon."

"I know, but I'll be back for Thanksgiving on Thursday," Rory replied.

"Yes, that's true," Emily smiled again.

"Speaking of Thanksgiving, Mom…" Lorelai began.

"Yes," Emily said turning to her daughter, somehow knowing she wasn't going to like whatever it was she was about to hear.

"Well, the schedule's a bit packed and… we might be… that is to say we could…possibly …be the tiniest bit late on Thanksgiving."

Breathing deeply and focusing on her cup of coffee, Emily maintained the appearance of calm. "Well, if you have other plans, I suppose we could move dinner back. Do you think you could be here by seven thirty?"

Lorelai looked to Luke for confirmation. He gave her a noncommittal shrug-nod indicating it was her call. "Sure. I think we can be here before then."

"No," Richard announced, placing his napkin down on the table.

Lorelai looked confused. "What?"

"No, Lorelai. This is your home, your family. I know you have various friends that you would like to visit and that's fine, but you can do that and still respect the fact that your mother works very hard arranging these dinners. This is your family and you should make this your priority on a holiday."

"Richard, it's fine," Emily replied. "It's only half an hour later, it's no big deal."

"I disagree," he countered. "I think it is a big deal. Holidays are a time for family and family should come first."

Lorelai s interrupted, "Look guys, I didn't mean to cause a major deal here. Really. If it's that important, we'll cut something else short."

"We can skip Liz and TJ's," Luke suggested hopefully.

Lorelai's head whipped toward Luke. "We are not skipping your sister's. We're getting married in a month and I'm not having some sort of medieval renaissance whammy put on me. She's told me at least eight times how important it is to her that we're there. She's even making some special Jell-O salad or something you loved as a kid. We'll cut out Sookie."

"You can't cut out Sookie," Luke argued.

"You'll cut out no one," Emily announced making eye contact with Lorelai. "As crazy as these countless meals sound to your father or me, I realize that it is important to you. You'll visit Sookie," Emily turned to Luke, "and Liz," then back to her daughter, "and anyone else you need to visit. Moving our dinner back half hour is not the end of the world," now her gaze landed on her husband, "is it?"

Richard gave Emily an appraising look. Lorelai's insistence over the years that holidays – days that should be reserved for family – were shared with a vast array of acquaintances and strangers had always hurt his wife, but things had been changing over the last several weeks. They now spent every day together. She was masking her feelings with that air of practiced calm which could drive you crazy and he couldn't tell if that was because she was upset with Lorelai over changing the plans for Thanksgiving or with him for telling her she couldn't. What he did know was that unless he wanted more problems the only thing he could do now was agree. He made sure to modulate his voice as he spoke, "No, it's not."

"Okay, well then, I'll see you on Thursday," Rory said standing up and heading out of the room. Everyone rose and followed her into the foyer, all receiving hugs and goodbyes before she left with Lorelai for the airport and Luke went back to Stars Hollow.

* * *

"So you and Grandma seem to be doing good," Rory commented, looking out the window of the Jeep as her mother drove down the road.

"Yeah," Lorelai answered, "I guess. We haven't gotten into any major fights … yet."

Rory sighed. "And you might not still," she insisted as Lorelai turned her head to look at her daughter. "Well, you might not."

"Be realistic, Rory," she argued. "My mother and I cannot go for long periods of time without a fight. It's just not possible with our routine."

"Well, maybe you guys have a new routine now," Rory insisted.

"It is very sweet you are worried about us," Lorelai smiled. "But I promise that we'll be fine, okay? We're both grown women. And we have to work together almost every day. So, even if we do get into a fight, we'll figure it out, all right?"

Rory nodded. "I just don't want you guys to stop speaking again."

"Well, we don't have a choice anymore. She owns a big chunk my inn, remember?"

"It was really nice of her and Grandpa to do that. Otherwise, you would have had to sell to some outsider. And, why did you not tell me what was going on until after?" Rory demanded, turning in her seat to face her mother.

"You were busy and I didn't want you to worry," Lorelai informed her.

"You almost had to sell part of the Inn! I should have been told about that!"

"Next time I promise to tell you. How's that?" Lorelai asked.

"That's great. Next time you almost sell the inn to a stranger," Rory mumbled as Lorelai turned into the airport.

Rolling to a stop, Lorelai put the car in park. "Now go. Kiss me goodbye and get out of the car or Mommy will be following you in to the security check area and crying like a two year old as the guards tear me away from you," she grinned, trying to mask the sadness in her eyes.

"Good bye, Mom," Rory smiled, unbuckling her seatbelt and reaching over to hug her mother. The hug lingered for a moment and she pulled away, bending down to pick up her small handbag before opening the car door. "I'll call you when I land in Poughkeepsie."

"Don't let the scary lesbians at Vassar intimidate you," Lorelai teased.

"It's co-ed now, Mom," Rory rolled her eyes, stepping out of the car. "Besides, Grandma went to a women's college and she's not a lesbian."

"So, we think…" Lorelai raised her eyebrow.

"Goodbye, Mom," Rory sighed, closing the door to the Jeep. With a final wave, she turned and walked towards the doors.

Lorelai watched her disappear inside before shifting the car into drive and heading back home.

* * *

"I don't understand how you can possibly pack so light," Emily insisted, lifting one of Hope's bags onto the bed.

"I just don't have that much that I need," Hope insisted, walking the short distance to the closet. "You apparently took all the over-packing genes and there were none left for me."

Emily laughed and rolled her eyes. "Well, if you forgot something, I'm sure that I have it or we can send someone to get it for you."

"I'll be fine," Hope insisted, slipping a blouse on a hanger and then putting it into the closet. Taking a step closer to her sister, she wound her arms around Emily's waist. "Besides, I've got my big sister and that's all I need," she smiled.

"You've always been the overly sentimental one," Emily insisted with a nod.

"Well, you apparently didn't use those genes, so they were all that was left for me," Hope teased.

"Do you need help unpacking?" Emily asked, pulling back to survey the small amount of luggage Hope had brought with her.

"Uhm," Hope thought, "I think I'm all right." She let go of her hold on her sister and walked back to the bed. "You could sit here and talk to me while I unpack, though," she suggested with a smile.

"That I can do," Emily replied, moving to sit on the bed as Hope reached into her bag. "My god," she replied immediately. "You are still just as messy as you were growing up. I swear you have no idea how to fold clothes."

"That's what an iron is for, Em," Hope grinned, pulling a slightly wrinkled black blouse from her bag.

Emily watched as she moved to the closet to hang it up. "I'm so happy you're here," Emily gushed. "This has been an absolutely perfect birthday."

"I'm glad," Hope smiled. "The moment Richard called I knew it was the perfect idea. You always refuse to let him throw you a party for your birthday."

"You know I don't like the attention," Emily shrugged it off.

"Well, you most certainly had all the attention last night. So many friends and colleagues!"

"Yes, they're all lovely people," she agreed.

"But you aren't that close to any of them?" Hope asked.

"I wouldn't say that," Emily spoke. "I just haven't really had any close friends since Melinda died."

Hope walked back to the bed and took another item from her bag. "You still miss her…"

"Of course I do," Emily sighed. "She was the only other person besides you that knew me before."

"Before what?" Hope asked, reaching for a hanger.

"All of this," Emily motioned with her arms in a sweeping fashion. "She was the last one left that knew me before I was Mrs. Richard Gilmore."

"You're not unhappy being Mrs. Gilmore, are you?" Hope asked, turning around to look at her sister.

"Of course not," Emily replied quickly. "I'm very happy with my life. I just meant …"

"That you miss having someone around who knows that when you were 19 you and Melinda went to get tattoos and you chickened out and Melinda was so mad that she left you in the middle of downtown Hartford at midnight?" she teased, walking slowly back to her suitcase as she glared at her sister. "You miss that?"

"The man did not look right," Emily defended herself. "I was not about to let him etch something permanent onto my body!"

"So, why didn't you go somewhere else?" Hope asked. Emily did not respond but stared down her sister. "Hmm?"

"Shut up," Emily hissed, breaking their gaze. "And hang your pants up like an adult. Don't just shove them in the drawer like you do at home," she instructed her sister, reaching into the suitcase.

Hope swatted Emily's hands away. "I can unpack my own bags, thank you. I may be the younger sister but I have managed to make it on my own for five whole years now."

"God knows how," Emily mumbled.

"Very funny," Hope spat, walking over to the closet once again.

* * *

_Many thanks to those who took the time to review: Branda is lazy at 1AM, gilmore fan, Ann Y. Mous, LorLukealways, and Mary!_


	3. Clothing, Clydesdales and Cute Dancing

****

_Clothing, Clydesdales and Cute Dancing Stars_

"I don't know about this," Emily remarked from inside the dressing room.

Hope was sitting just outside next to the three-way mirror. "Well, come on out here. Let me see."

Emily opened the louvered door and stepped out wearing a hunter green dress. The bodice was velvet and very fitted with a scooped neck and long sleeves, the skirt a moderately full moiré taffeta and floor-length.

"Ooh gorgeous!" Hope looked her up and down. Emily made a face that clearly said she did not agree. "Turn," Hope instructed. "The fit is perfect."

"I look like a Christmas tree," Emily protested.

Hope laughed. "You do not look like a Christmas tree." She turned Emily to face the mirror leaving her hands on her shoulders. "You look fantastic and this velvet… just think of how Richard will enjoy running his hands over this fabric and what's inside it."

"Ewww." Emily shivered in disgust, her lip curled as though she were smelling bad fish. "Just the thought … I told you about those vile velour jogging suits he insisted on wearing after his surgery and the way he would run his hands over them."

Hope laughed for a moment then saw that Emily wasn't just overreacting. "I knew you were annoyed with him, but I didn't realize it was so upsetting to you."

"He…he just wasn't himself during that period. He wasn't the strong confident man I married and those jogging suits, I guess, were the most obvious sign of that."

The blonde sales woman stepped back into the room. "Oh, that fits beautifully, Mrs. Gilmore."

Emily looked down at the dress then back up at the woman. "It's just not right."

"Would you like to try anything else?" she asked.

"No, thank you," Emily answered with a sigh.

"I'm sorry you weren't able to find anything to your liking," the girl apologized.

"Thank you anyway, Shari. I appreciate your help," Emily replied before going back into the dressing room and changing into her burgundy suit.

"So how many dresses does that make now?" Hope asked as they left the shop and headed for the car.

"Too many," Emily sighed.

"I think it's nearly eighty," Hope commented matter of factly.

"No!" Emily stopped abruptly as she was about to open the door of the car and looked at Hope across the roof. "That can't be right."

Hope did the math in her head, "Well, that was at least twenty-five. The last place was only eighteen, but with the first store we tried you must be over seventy-five by now."

"I've tried on seventy-five dresses today and we still haven't found anything for me to wear to Lorelai's wedding," Emily lamented as she opened the door and sat down in the car.

Hope climbed in on the passenger side. "Seventy-five dresses and it's only just lunch time. By the way, where are we eating?"

Emily shrugged, "What do you feel like?"

"You won't like it."

"How bad could it be?" Emily asked.

"How soon she forgets," Hope teased. "Okay, what about something Mediterranean? Greek maybe? That's a good compromise."

"Compromise between what and what?" Emily asked curiously.

"Between the Lebanese I'm craving and the tea room I'm sure you would prefer," Hope explained with a chuckle.

Emily laughed too. "Okay, Greek it is. I know just the place," Emily replied turning on the car and pulling out of the parking place.

* * *

"Oh this is useless," Emily groaned as she stepped away from a rack of evening gowns. "I don't know why Celine had to pick this month to go out of town. I'm never going to find an appropriate dress this way."

"When will she back?" Hope asked.

"She's supposed to be back after Thanksgiving. I was worried about leaving it to such the last minute, but I guess I'll have to," Emily complained, casting one last look at the evening gown and bridal department and heading for the escalator.

Hope followed, but an outfit on a mannequin caught her eye. "Oh, Emily, look at that! That would be perfect for you."

Emily looked at the V-neck blouse and black skirt. "You've got to be kidding me."

"No, you've got the perfect figure for that," Hope argued. "Why don't you try it on?"

"And where exactly do you suggest I wear this ensemble?" Emily asked.

"You could wear it to the Inn. It would be perfect, not too formal, not too causal. It's stylish and still professional. Just try it on, you don't have to buy it if you don't like it," Hope countered.

"Fine, but we're going to find something for you to try on too," Emily replied.

Hope smiled and shrugged, "I don't need anything."

"I don't care if you need it or not, sometimes it just feels good to buy something new and you deserve it. Let's see what we can find." Emily began looking around spotting a wrap dress on a nearby rack. "How about this one?"

"If you want, I'll try it, but I think it would look better on you," Hope answered.

Emily shook her head, "No, I picked this out and you are going to try it on."

"Okay," Hope grinned, a twinkle in her eye, "but you have to do the same. You have to try on anything I pick out and no arguing or complaining."

"Agreed."

Hope reached out and picked up the identical dress to the one Emily had chosen, her grin broadening as she moved to the next display and picked out a leather skirt and ruffled see-through blouse.

Emily rolled her eyes, "Very funny."

Three hours later they made their way to the parking lot, each laden down with packages, shopping bags, and garment bags. Emily shifted as much as she could to one hand so she could reach the hidden button to open her trunk, very happy that she didn't have to dig the key out of her purse. The trunk popped open and they began to load their purchases inside.

"How is it that we go shopping for an evening gown for you and both end up buying everything but an evening gown?" Hope asked.

"That is a very good question," Emily responded, taking the last garment bag and draping it across everything else in the trunk. "I don't know how I let you talk me into most of this."

"Because you look phenomenal in them, that's why. Just wait until Richard gets a look at that little black number. I predict that stays on a sum total of a minute and a half."

"You are so bad," Emily admonished, closing the trunk and walking over to her door.

"And I am so right," Hope replied before getting into the car.

* * *

"Do you have any idea what happened?" Dr. Weisman asked, walking next to Lorelai as they made their way back to the stables.

"No," she shook her head. "We came in this morning to feed the horses and Cletus wouldn't get up. Our trainer tried to lure him out of the stall with food but he had no interest in it. We thought maybe he was just tired but that was hours ago. He won't get up and he won't let anyone touch him either. Not even our Chef Andy and he just adores Andy," she responded.

"Well, I'm sure we can figure out what is going on," the doctor smiled as Lorelai unlatched the stable door and pulled it open.

Following Dr. Weisman inside, she motioned towards Cletus' stall. "This is Cletus," she announced. Usually at the sound of her voice, Cletus at least lifted his head. Yet this time he did nothing.

As they unhooked the door and stepped inside, Cletus didn't even bother to acknowledge their presence. He remained lying on the floor in the corner of the stall, his head tucked next to his legs. "You don't think its something bad, do you?" she asked, her voice full of worry, as Dr. Weisman placed his bag on the ground and knelt down next to Cletus. Lorelai stayed by the door, not wanting to make Cletus feel crowded.

"I don't know, Miss. Gilmore," he answered honestly, moving slowly towards the horse. "Have there been any major changes in his routine lately?"

"I don't think so," she answered, crossing her arms over her chest as she watched the doctor and Cletus ignoring him.

"New brand of food?" Lorelai shook her head. "Perhaps another animal in the barn with him was removed and he's upset?"

"Nope," she shook her head again. "We've only got the three horses right now."

"Do they interact with each other?" Dr. Weisman asked, carefully examining the extremities of the horse. Cletus was still lying with his head and snout on the ground.

"A bit. We let them graze in the pasture together sometimes, if it's a really nice day."

"And they get along well?" he asked. His back was to Lorelai and she couldn't tell what he was doing but she could tell that Cletus suddenly didn't seem to like it. He wasn't moving that much but he was making noises and his legs were jerking around.

"Yeah, they seem to," she answered, trying to look around him to see what he was doing. "Why?"

"Well," Dr. Weisman answered, carefully examining Cletus' left front leg as he rather weakly tried to pull away. "It looks like he was in a fight."

"A fight? What? That can't be right…"

"He has a hole in his leg," Dr. Weisman informed her, turning to motion for her to move next to him and examine the wound for herself.

As Lorelai stepped forward, the hay crunching beneath her black patent leather Jimmy Choos, she did indeed see the softball-size hole in the side of Cletus' leg. "How did he get a hole in his leg?" she asked, looking down at the torn flesh.

"The only thing I can think of is that one of your other horses kicked him," Dr. Weisman answered, gently pressing his fingers against the hole in Cletus' leg. It almost seemed as if Cletus knew what Dr. Weisman was doing and that he was there to help and had decided to stop resisting. "Do you know the last time they were together?"

"Uh, yesterday afternoon, I think," she answered. "We let Cletus and Clyde out for a while before dinner. I just … I don't see how this is possible. Clyde is the sweetest horse there is. He's never been aggressive before."

"Well, it might not have been an act of aggression. What breed of horse is he?"

"A Clydesdale," she answered.

Dr. Weisman chuckled. Clyde the Clydesdale. How many times had he heard that in his career? "They are a very powerful breed. It very well could have been an accident."

"Does this mean we should keep them apart now?" Lorelai asked.

"I wouldn't go that far just yet," he answered, reaching into his bag. "But, I would keep them apart while Cletus is healing. And then perhaps monitor them together for a while. Your trainer knows their temperaments. He'll know what to do."

"How long is it going to take him to heal?" she asked.

"No more than two weeks," Dr. Weisman answered, pulling a syringe from the bag. "I'm going to give him an injection that should help with the inflammation. The wound itself will heal on its own. I'll put a makeshift bandage over it just to protect it from getting infected, which most likely won't happen."

"So, he just needs to rest?" Lorelai asked.

"That's right," Dr. Weisman answered, injecting Cletus, who at this point didn't even seem to notice or care. "I'll come back in a few days and check the wound to see that no infection is developing." As he spoke, he took some gauze from the bag and wrapped it around Cletus' leg, securing it in place with medical tape.

"Is he in pain?" Lorelai asked. He looked calm now. Yet he was clearly not exhibiting his usual upbeat and friendly personality.

"It is mostly a flesh wound. The area of his leg which is injured is a hollow mass. There are a few exposed tendons which are probably sore from the force of the kick. However, I think he's probably just uncomfortable."

"So, he'll make a full recovery?" she asked.

"Yes," Dr. Weisman reassured her. "He'll be just fine in a few weeks, if not sooner." He stood up, reaching down to pick up his bag.

"That's good," Lorelai breathed, happy that nothing major was wrong with him.

Dr. Weisman stepped out of Cletus' stall, closing it shut and securing the latch behind him. Lorelai followed, stopping for a moment in front of Clyde's stall.

Seeing Lorelai, Clyde immediately trotted the few short feet to her and neighed happily. Expecting her to reach out her hand to pet him, he nuzzled her arm as she pulled away. "You and I, buddy," she spoke, pointing her finger at him, "we're going to have a talk later," she promised.

Lorelai's eyes narrowed as Clyde's head hung low and he retreated back to the corner of his stall. Shaking her head, she rushed to the door of the barn where Dr. Weisman was waiting for her.

"I am sorry," Michel spoke into the phone. "The horse has a hole in his leg. You don't want to ride a horse with a hole in it, no?" he asked.

Lorelai stopped in her tracks as she approached him from behind.

* * *

"I'm sorry that your granddaughter cannot have her weekly lesson. We are more than willing to try and accommodate you for an appointment later this month. Or we could arrange for Amelie to take her lesson with Clyde instead." Michel sighed heavily. "I understand that she is very fond of Cletus. But he has a hole in his leg," he repeated. "He is a Clydesdale," he answered her question. "No, I did not name him. Yes, it is amusing. Clyde the Clydesdale. Very funny. Ha ha."

Lorelai could hear Michel's annoyance and sarcasm growing with every word that he spoke. Stepping up to the desk, she stopped beside him.

"Yes, thank you for your understanding," he answered, as politely as was possible for Michel. "Goodbye," he spoke quickly, hanging up the phone before the woman could utter another word.

"How's it going?" Lorelai asked as Michel placed the phone back into its resting place. As Michel slowly turned his head to look at her, she didn't need an answer. "Uh, Michel, why don't you go take a break? I'll call the last few people and reschedule." Michel did not reply but simply walked away, heading for the back.

Lorelai looked down at the list of names. Michel had already called all the people scheduled to take a lesson with Cletus this week. And that apparently hadn't gone over too well. The fact that the names of those already called were not just simply crossed out but were nearly scratched off the page gave her that idea that some of the calls had not gone so smoothly.

Feeling the unsettling twinge in her stomach, she tried to prevent the thought that she knew was coming and threatening to invade her mind. There was only one person who would be able to call all of the guests and somehow appease them. And that one person was her mother. Oh, how it pained her to admit that to herself. Her mother would be perfect at this. She'd have every client eating out of the palm of her hand before the end of the phone call. Damn, why did it have to be so annoying to admit that her mother was good at this?

However, her mother was off today. She and Hope were probably out having lunch and getting into trouble. Well, Hope was probably getting into trouble. Her mother was most likely the one getting them out of trouble – which according to all the stories that Hope had told her, was the essence of their relationship.

Picking up the phone with a sigh, Lorelai dialed the number written on the paper, hoping that the person would take the news of their cancellation better than the others.

* * *

"Oh what a day," Hope sighed as she dropped onto the large sofa in the den and kicked her feet up on to the coffee table in front of her. Her little black flats perched on top of a neat stack of magazines.

"All that and I still didn't find a gown suitable for Lorelai's wedding," Emily complained sinking onto the sofa. She slipped off her shoes and pulled her feet up next to her.

Loosening the bright geometric print scarf around her neck, the only splash of color against her black top and slacks, Hope sighed again. "I don't know how you do it. I haven't spent a day like that in ages. One store after another, it's all just a blur now."

"Actually it's been ages since I've spent a day like this. It was kind of fun." Emily smiled conspiratorially then shook her head. "I still can't believe you convinced me to buy some of those outfits."

Hope rolled her eyes. "Oh please, you didn't get anything that daring, just a bit more fitted than you're used to wearing. You've got an amazing figure. I don't know why you want to hide it."

"I do no such thing," Emily countered looking down and self-consciously straightening the long cardigan she wore over her navy blue skirt.

Hope watched her out of the corner of her eye. "Emily, you always look fabulous and you know it. I just think you could flaunt it more. Now, what's this show you wanted me to see? Celebrity Dance-Off?"

"Dancing with the Stars," Emily answered reaching for the TiVo remote. "I haven't watched last night's episode yet. You're going to love it." She hit play and the show's theme music began.

A few minutes later, Hope squealed delightedly pointing at the screen, "Oh, he's fabulous!"

"They are definitely the best couple, but he missed the heel leads in half that routine," Emily replied.

"Who's looking at his feet? Did you see that butt?"

"Hope!" Emily exclaimed, her eyes wide with shock.

Hope eyed her with disbelief, not at all buying the shocked and horrified Emily. "Oh, come on, you can't tell me you didn't look."

Emily looked away from her sister and back to the TV, a slight blush creeping into her cheeks. "It is rather nice, isn't it?"

"That's one word for it," Hope teased. "Helio's such a wonderful person too. Remember the Afghan children that the foundation sponsored to receive medical care in France? At one of our fundraising events last year he offered to bring a group of them to the track with him the next day. He took each and every one of them for a ride in his race car. They were thrilled."

"Well, he seems like such a nice young man. I'm glad to know he really is, so many of those sports stars aren't."

Hope turned back to the set. "Ooh! Look at that one. He's not a very good dancer, but he is nice on the eyes." She shook her head and laughed at herself, "This is what you're reduced to as a widow. You get your thrills watching young men in tight clothes dance on television."

"I can't believe it's been five years," Emily said quietly. "I was beside myself when Richard had his heart attack and bypass surgery. I couldn't even contemplate my life without him."

"I know what you mean, but you do what you have to do," Hope replied with a shrug.

"What about Henri? I thought you were seeing quite a bit of him?"

"I broke that off a couple of months ago," Hope explained. "He was getting too attached. He's a lovely man, but he started wanting more. Sex is one thing. I just don't see sharing my life with anyone else after Gerard."

"Hope, you don't mean that."

"He's a dear friend, but a typical Frenchman – so dramatic about sex… le petit mort indeed."

"I wouldn't know," Emily teased. "I can't even imagine being _with_ another man like that."

"Most people don't have a man like Richard as their first lover, let alone stay together their entire adult lives. You're one of the lucky few, Em."

A shy smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, she confessed, "Yes, I am." She briefly met Hope's eyes and was stung by the sadness she saw there. Reaching over, she gently placed her hand on Hope's as they both went back to watching the show.

* * *

"Mom," Lorelai breathed, stepping into the foyer and nearly running straight into her mother. "What are you doing here?

"It's nice to see you too, Lorelai," Emily commented dryly as Hope stood behind her.

"I just … I mean … I figured you would take today off too with Aunt Hope being in town and everything," she quickly recovered.

"I did take today off. I called Michel hours ago and asked him to tell you that I wouldn't be in today," Emily stated.

"Oh," Lorelai breathed, looking over her shoulder at Michel who had a phone to his ear and was doing something on the computer. "I guess he forgot to tell me. But I figured that was what you were doing."

"Well, I did call," Emily insisted.

"She apparently left something in your office," Hope piped up.

"Oh, yes," Emily added. "My planner is on your desk. I need it so that I can cancel a few appointments today."

"You guys planning to go out and cause trouble in Hartford? Talk loudly in museums? Say scandalous things about women who aren't DAR members?" Lorelai teased.

Emily rolled her eyes as Hope spoke up, "I've never been a member of the DAR."

"Not because she didn't want to when she was younger," Emily added. "She was caught in a coatroom with the son of the then-mayor."

"Aunt Hope," Lorelai grinned. "You are the wild one of the family."

"We were not doing anything. He was helping me take my coat off and the door shut behind us," she defended herself.

Emily rolled her eyes this time, as did Lorelai in a playful way. "The ladies on the DAR admission committee didn't believe her either."

"They oh so graciously allowed me to rescind my application," Hope stated dramatically.

Lorelai laughed as Michel called out to her. "Lorelai … there is a call for you."

"Who is it, Michel?" he called over her shoulder.

"I did not ask," he replied simply.

Sighing, Lorelai gave an apologetic smile and turned back to walk to the reception desk.

"I'll just go grab my planner and be right back," Emily promised, leaving Hope standing in the foyer.

Hope stood still for a few moments, looking around the Inn. She hadn't really had that much time on Saturday night. To her right seemed to be a room where one could wait for a cab or sit down and just relax for a few minutes before going upstairs. Taking a few steps around, she was surprised by the presence she felt behind her.

Turning around, her face broke out into a smile. "Andy," she breathed.

"Hope," he stated, as surprised to see her as she was to see him. "I didn't realize you were coming in today. I thought Emily was off today."

"Oh, she is," Hope confirmed. "She left something in Lorelai's office and needed to stop by to pick it up."

"Ah," Andy stated, feeling a bit of a lag in the conversation. Looking at her in the light of the day and in casual clothes, he noticed that she wasn't as tall as he remembered. In fact, she wasn't nearly as tall as her sister or nieces. She wore khaki pants and a light blue oxford shirt with a matching wrap that covered her upper body and shoulders. Her hair was also much less styled and lighter than Emily's.

Hope smiled, a bit uncomfortably as they stood before each other. She glanced away for a moment as the thought of how handsome he looked in his white jacket and jeans crept its way into her mind.

"Andy," Emily called out, walking down the hall as she came to a stop next to her sister. "I assume you met my sister Hope the other night."

"Yes, ma'am, I did," he confirmed, looking from Hope to Emily.

"Andy," Emily sighed. "You know I have told you a million times not to call me 'ma'am.'"

"I'm sorry," he replied, "but I just wouldn't feel right otherwise."

Emily laughed, looking at her sister who had a bright smile on her face. "It's so rare that we come across a young man with such nice manners."

"Young man," Andy laughed. "I like you even more now for calling a 49-year-old man 'young.'"

"Well, you are younger than we are," Emily replied.

"Age is just a number, not a state of mind," he countered with a smile.

"I couldn't agree more," Hope added as Andy looked back at her.

"Well, we should be going," Emily declared, clutching her planner in one hand.

"It was nice to see you again," Hope nodded to Andy as they both continued to smile at one another.

"Yes, it was," he confirmed as they all said their good-byes and he watched Emily and Hope leave.

Walking back to the desk where Michel was now standing alone, he stopped for a moment on his way back to the kitchen.

"Two such classy women in the family and yet Lorelai still dresses like she is sixteen," Michel huffed. "I do not get it."

Andy laughed, choosing to ignore the comment and return to the safety of the kitchen.


	4. Over the River

**__**

Over the River …

Emily cracked an egg into a small bowl then added it to the batter in the large mixing bowl and turned the stand mixer back on. She picked up the two discarded egg shells from the counter and walked over to the garbage can then turned to her sister. Hope was seated on a tall stool next to the island, her elbows resting on the counter as she sipped her coffee. "Exactly when did cooking become a spectator sport?" Emily asked on her way to the sink to wash her hands.

"Hmmm?" Hope asked.

"You seem a million miles away." Emily observed, washing off her hands and then drying them on a nearby towel.

Hope gave herself a mental shake. "I guess I was."

Emily walked over to the mixer and looked at the progress of her cake batter. Stopping the mixer and shifting the bowl down, she scraped the sides with a silicon spatula. Then raising the bowl back into place she flipped the mixer back on. "Well?" she prompted, reaching for a paper towel to wipe off the counter next to the mixer.

Hope looked puzzled for a moment then realized Emily wanted to know what she'd been thinking about. She wasn't sure if it was really something she could put into words. "I was just thinking how nice it is to be back home. I didn't realize that I thought of it that way anymore. I mean, this hasn't been my home in so long, but I've begun feeling …" she sighed and took a moment to search for the right words, "out of sorts these past few years."

Emily stepped back to the mixer and shut it off. "I always thought you loved France."

"I do," Hope answered, "it's just not quite the same anymore, though every place changes. Everyone changes."

"That's true, I suppose." Emily replied as she unhooked the mixing bowl and carried it over to the island where a sheet pan was already set up with mini Bundt pans on top of it. She began pouring the batter into the individual size pans. Casting a glance over to her sister who sat watching her with a grin, Emily said, "You know you could get started on the pâte à choux."

Hope laughed. "You're bossy this morning."

"Well, you're the one who turned her nose up at my pumpkin cakes and wanted cream puffs. Marta will be here to start the dinner preparations in an hour."

"I think I'd rather watch you," she teased, getting up and moving to the coffee pot to refill her cup. "You've always been the cook in the family."

"The cream puffs were your idea, and they're your recipe," Emily prodded, taking the last of the batter and distributing it evenly between all the pans. She put the mini cakes in the oven and set the time then turned to Hope. "Do you remember how high the oven needs to be for the cream puffs?"

"Two-twenty," Hope answered automatically.

"Fahrenheit?" Emily questioned.

Hope laughed at her mistake. "Ummm… Four-twenty-five."

Emily set the temperature and shook her head. "I'll never understand how you are able to do that in your head."

Hope shrugged, "Just practice, I guess."

Smiling at her sister as she gathered what she'd need for the cream puffs, she tried again. She knew that Hope hated washing dishes, "You could wash the mixer and paddle, if you want."

"Sounds fair," Hope agreed, moving to the sink.

Emily quietly added the necessary ingredients to a sauce pan and turned on the burner. Hope liked to cook, well bake anyway, and these were her famous cream puffs. She couldn't help but wonder why she was being so reluctant. When the mixture began to bubble, she added the flour then returned the pot to the fire and began whisking. Hope had just gotten the bowl and paddle back in place when it was time to move the dough over. While it mixed for a few minutes to cool down, Emily poured them both another cup of coffee.f

"So, do you make these little pumpkin cakes every year?" Hope asked.

"No, I have yet to find that perfect Thanksgiving dessert. It's so hard with pumpkin, but I tried these a few weeks ago and they seemed very good. Lorelai, I'm sure, will hate it. She loves to point out that dessert should not have vegetables in it."

Hope chuckled, "Sounds like Lorelai."

Emily took a moment to check the temperature of the dough with her fingers. "Almost ready," she commented, turning the mixer back on. "I'm sure your cream puffs will be a big hit."

"I've had my share of culinary disasters, too. Remember the time when I tried to make petit fours for Easter dinner?"

Both women instantly laughed at the memory. "I believe we had angel food cake with berries instead."

"That's all the cook could throw together in time. I swore I was going to make those petit fours and demanded that there be no back up. What was the matter with me?"

"You were a cocky sixteen-year-old, that's what. And the petit fours may have looked awful, but I remember they tasted amazing."

"I was afraid to cook after that. I didn't go near the kitchen for a good six months," Hope recalled.

Emily laughed even harder. "More like you were afraid _of _the cook."

Hope barely got her coffee cup settled back on the saucer her hand was shaking so hard. Tears pooled in her eyes as she laughed. "That woman was scary."

* * *

"Why are we eating this early?" Luke grumbled, walking down the street with a ceramic dish covered in aluminum foil in his hands.

"She invited us and I couldn't say no. She told me three o'clock," Lorelai shrugged. "You don't argue with Mrs. Kim. You just say 'yes' and 'thank you' a lot when she's speaking."

"They eat dinner early because Mrs. Kim likes to be in bed by eight o'clock. And if she eats dinner at six or seven, then the food doesn't have time to settle and she'll go to bed with a full stomach," Rory informed him, a bouquet of autumnal flowers clutched in her hand.

"But who eats dinner at three o'clock?" he argued. "And why are you two so afraid of this woman? You can't say no to her?"

"The Kims eat dinner early," Lorelai insisted as they turned a corner and crossed the main street in Stars Hollow. Lorelai and Rory walked side-by-side with Luke close behind them. "And I'm not the only one who is afraid of her," Lorelai argued. "So is Lane. Most of the town is afraid of her!"

"Yeah," Rory piped in. "No one messes with Mrs. Kim."

"Where are we going after this?" Luke asked, needing to once again be reminded of their schedule for the day.

"To Sookie's at four o'clock. Then to Liz and TJ's at five-thirty. After that, we have to be at my parents' house at seven."

"And we have to be on time," Rory stressed. "That was really nice of Grandma to agree to push dinner back to seven-thirty."

Luke took in a deep breath. "That's a lot for one day."

"What can I say?" Lorelai grinned. "We're popular. People just want us around, I suppose."

"Yeah," Luke agreed tentatively. "That or you talked your way into all of these dinners so that you could just eat all day long."

"He's got you pegged on that one," Rory teased.

"I did not talk my way into dinner at my parents' house," she defended. "It's a tradition. I had no choice in the matter."

Luke laughed. "The fact that you get excited months ahead of time for your mother's Thanksgiving dressing has nothing to do with it, I'm sure."

"I just appreciate good food, that's all," she defended.

"Ooooh," Rory cooed. "Grandma does have good dressing. And good cranberry sauce," she added. "Oh! And the gravy …"

"Yes," Lorelai smiled, "the gravy."

They walked in silence for a few minutes more. "Three o'clock," Luke mumbled, shaking his head as they approached the Kim house.

"Give me the soufflé," Lorelai insisted, reaching out to take it from his hands.

"What? Why?" Luke protested.

"She'll think I made it," she said, grasping the dish.

"Mrs. Kim will never think that," Luke retorted.

"Just shut up and ring the doorbell," Lorelai huffed.

As they stepped onto the porch, the door flung open.

"Happy Thanksgiving!" Lorelai greeted, holding out the dish in her hands. "We brought sweet potato soufflé!"

"Come in, come in," Mrs. Kim spoke, ushering them inside. "You're late." Lorelai handed Luke the soufflé as she took off her coat. "You give me soufflé. Coats go in closet," she instructed Luke, pointing to the closet before taking the dish from him.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Mrs. Kim," Rory greeted her, handing her the bouquet of flowers. Mrs. Kim took it, smiled slightly, and turned to look at Luke and Lorelai with a stern expression on her face.

"You said that dinner was at three o'clock. It's just now three," Lorelai argued, shrugging out of her coat.

"We eat precisely at three. We're now two minutes late," Mrs. Kim spoke harshly.

Lorelai bit her lip and looked over at Luke who was hanging his coat in the closet. "Let's go," Mrs. Kim instructed them, ushering them both into the main room where the other guests were already at the table.

"Sorry we're late," Lorelai announced as everyone watched them walking to their seats. The room was silent.

"We're not late," Luke grumbled, taking a seat next to Lorelai. Thankfully, Zach was on the other side of him. Rory slid into a chair next to Lane as the two of them hugged quickly before turning back to face everyone gathered at the table.

"Man, three o'clock dinner means we start eating at three o'clock," Zach leaned over, whispering to Luke.

"Silence!" Mrs. Kim's voice boomed. "We will pray now."

Lorelai glanced over at Luke who was placing a napkin in his lap. Deciding to follow his lead, she did the same and took a quick glance around the table. Everyone had their heads bent and their eyes closed. When her gaze caught that of Mrs. Kim, she immediately ducked her head down and closed her eyes. "Now we hold hands," the woman announced.

* * *

"Is this how you want them?" Hope asked, drizzling icing over one of the small cakes.

Emily glanced up from the pastry bag she was filling with chilled pastry cream and replied, "Perfect!"

The maids and cook had arrived and begun the main part of the meal a couple of hours ago. Under Emily's close supervision, the turkey had been cleaned and prepared to roast with apples, onion, celery, and a few herbs. It was in the oven and was just now beginning to release its delicious aroma into the kitchen which was already filled with the sweet, sagey smell of the dressing cooking on the stovetop.

"Which wine would you like me use for this, Mrs. Gilmore?" Marta asked.

"The Chablis, I think," Emily answered.

"So, here's where you both disappeared to again," Richard's deep voice boomed from the doorway. Navigating his way through the busy and crowded kitchen, he stopped at the island and snatched a piece of carrot from the cutting board where the extra maid Emily had brought in was chopping vegetables for the salad. "Dinner seems much too far away."

"You act as though you haven't eaten at all and we've already had two meals today," Emily commented, beginning to fill the bite-sized cream puffs.

"All these wonderful smells are making me hungry," Richard explained, moving behind his wife. He leaned over her shoulder, one hand coming to rest on her back as he watched her work. He then snaked an arm around her and dipped his finger into the bowl.

"Richard!" She dropped the cream puff she'd been filling onto the plate and pushed his hand away as he reached for the bowl again. "You're worse than a child."

Hope looked up from the cakes she was icing and watched the pair. Even after all these years, Richard was still as playful as ever and Emily still pretended that she was irritated with him. Most people watching the scene unfold would probably think she really was irritated, but this was the game they played. The game they had mastered through a lifetime together and she envied them.

His eyes twinkled at Emily mischievously. They stood staring at each other for a moment, each challenging the other to make the next move. Finally, Emily tired of the game and turned back to her cream puffs. As soon as she went back to work, his finger found its way back into the sweet custard. Her head snapped back in his direction and he held his cream-covered finger up in a threat. She took a step back away from him and shot him a warning glare. Slowly he brought his finger to his mouth and smirked at her.

"Honestly," Emily groaned and rolled her eyes.

Drawn into their playful standoff, Hope couldn't help but giggle.

Stepping behind his wife, he quickly patted her on the hip and planted a kiss on her temple then left the kitchen.

"I can't believe the twins are getting so big," Lorelai gushed, leaning forward a bit to look around Luke and Zach so she could talk to Lane.

"Yeah, all the pictures you send me are great. I keep them on my Blackberry and it feels just like I'm here watching them grow up," Rory smiled.

"I know it's silly but I really feel like they can understand what we're saying to them. I was telling Kwan this morning that he had to behave today because I was going to be helping Mamma to cook. And he spent all day just sitting in his bouncy chair, not making a sound."

Zach smiled proudly. "Steve spent the day with me practicing with the band. I think he's got an ear for music. He loves it when Lane lets him pretend like he's playing the drums. It's so cute," he cooed. "Today he just sat there on whoever's lap was holding him, watching everything that was going on."

Lorelai nodded and looked down at the plate. She'd eaten everything but the Tofurkey. It just didn't look right. Now she wished she hadn't eaten her mashed potatoes and she could use them to mask the taste of the fake meat. Why did Mrs. Kim have to be so insane? It was just wrong to have a fake turkey on Thanksgiving. She took a deep breath and glanced over at Luke's plate. Her eyebrow rose as she noticed that his Tofurkey was gone. Glancing furtively around the table, she realized that no one was looking at her. Luke was focusing on Zach and listening to him talk about the kids. Rory and Lane were absorbed in themselves, talking a mile a minute about life on the campaign trail. Poking her slice of Tofurkey with her fork, she masterfully shoved it off onto Luke's plate in a flash.

Just as she pulled her hand back, Luke turned his head to her. The blank grin on her face told him that something was up. Shrugging it off, he looked down at his plate, about to take a bite of his green beans. Lifting his head slowly, he turned back to Lorelai once again.

"What?" she shrugged innocently.

"I know what you did," he insisted.

"It's gross," Lorelai defended herself.

"Did you even take a bite of it?" Luke asked. The disgusted look on Lorelai's face answered his question for him. "I don't know why I should be surprised. It's healthy. You don't eat healthy food. Even Rory ate all of hers," he informed her.

"Thank you," Lorelai smiled, bending to the side to kiss Luke on the cheek. Noticing that Mrs. Kim was eyeing them cautiously, she straightened up.

"You want more?" Mrs. Kim asked across the table.

"No, thank you," Lorelai smiled politely. "We still have a few places that we have to stop tonight."

"Very well," Mrs. Kim stated, turning back to the person at her side.

"I ate that tofu stir-fry thing once," Lorelai stated, touching Luke's arm. "That was healthy."

"It was fried in grease…" he pointed out.

"It was still tofu," Lorelai noted.

* * *

_OFG here filling in for UVS and I forgot to thank those of you that reviewed last time. Sorry about that. Many thanks to everyone who has reviewed since the first chapter was posted including: Ann Y. Mous, litfan, swimmerluver, LorLukealways, Mary, Lorihhp, B. Alex Milligan, carterfinley, Sheila Bryant, morzsa, and gilmore fan._

NOTE: Clearly I should not be allowed to post anymore. I'm not doing a very good job these last few chapters. Thank you to Lorihhp for pointing out my oversight. Hopefully all is fixed now.


	5. And Through the Woods

**_And Through the Woods_**

With the desserts finished and the rest of the meal well underway, Emily had taken the time to freshen up and change into her dress. It was a deep, rich brown color. Perfect for fall, it had a v-neck and gold buttons down the front but was one of the more fitted outfits Hope had talked her into buying recently. She looked down at the fit one more time on her way down the stairs, pausing to smooth an imaginary wrinkle from the skirt. She'd had second thoughts about wearing it, but she knew if she didn't she'd hear about it all evening long and it really wasn't that daring.

In the living room, Hope and Richard were already deep in conversation. Hope had changed into a straight black skirt and a white blouse with a red sweater tied around her shoulders. As always, she looked the very picture of relaxed elegance.

Upon seeing her enter the room, Richard put down his glass of scotch and rose, "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Yes, thank you," she replied taking a seat next to Hope on the sofa. Noticing the glass in her hand, she added, "That Manhattan looks good."

"Richard does make the best Manhattans," Hope commented with a smile as she brought the cocktail glass to her mouth and took a sip.

"Another Manhattan coming up." Richard expertly mixed his wife's drink and handed it to her before resuming his seat on the opposite sofa.

As Richard picked up his glass, Emily practically lunged at him. "Is that one of your mother's bar glasses?"

He shrugged. "Of course it is. This is a holiday and these are the best bar glasses we have."

"I told Jennifer to put those away," Emily declared, rising quickly.

"And I told her to leave them out." Richard looked stunned as she took the glass from his hand and headed to the doorway. "What are you doing?"

"I'm putting these away. What do you think I'm doing?" she answered tersely then yelled out, "Jennifer! Jennifer, come here please!"

The maid hurried into the room, "Yes, Mrs. Gilmore?"

"Please wash this glass immediately then send Sofia back for the rest. Be sure that they are _all_ put into that box I got out for you and stored in the cabinet in the basement."

"Yes, Mrs. Gilmore, right away," Jennifer answered, taking the glass from Emily and quickly leaving the room.

"The back of the cabinet in the basement," Emily called after her.

"Emily, that's 30-year-old scotch," Richard protested as he watched the maid rush off with his drink.

"Well, pour yourself some more," she replied with a shrug then cautioned, "but not in one of those glasses."

"What is the matter with you?" he demanded.

"There's nothing the matter with me, what's the matter with you?" Emily countered. "Have you forgotten who's coming for dinner?"

"You can't seriously believe Marilyn actually took those glasses," he challenged.

"You know she did," Emily insisted. "Even your mother said she did. I know you certainly aren't doubting what your mother told us."

"I'm not doubting Trix," Richard explained defensively. "I just think perhaps she might have been mistaken. A maid could have simply broken the glass and didn't want to admit it."

Just as he finished, Sophia, a short, thin woman with mousey brown hair scurried into the room and began packing the glasses into a sectioned off cardboard carton. Emily moved closer to the cart to watch her.

Hope couldn't take it any more and finally began to laugh. "You can't seriously have a kleptomaniac relative."

Emily briefly glanced away from the maid's packing and at her sister. "Oh, believe it, and it wasn't just one glass. She's was systematically smuggling those glasses out of his mother's house for years."

Hope raised a quizzical eyebrow at her sister. "I suppose you caught her at it?"

"Not in the act, no. But I heard the sound her purse made when she let it drop a few inches onto the foyer table to put on her coat. There was definitely a glass in there and a very weighty one at that."

Hope laughed harder.

"You never told me about this," Richard announced.

As the maid finished with the glassware and left the room, Emily walked back over to the sofa and sat down while Richard took the opportunity to head over to the now-vacated drinks cart. "I most certainly did. I told you in the car on the way home from your cousin Russell's funeral. Just another of those times where you don't even listen to what I say."

"Hmmm," was Richard's reply as he continued to look over the cart. "Well, as there are no bar glasses here any longer, I'll just go in search of some others."

"Jennifer will know where they are. I had her wash them this morning," Emily told him as he left the room.

"Marilyn?" Hope was still giggling. "She's really been stealing Lorelai's bar glasses for years?"

Emily nodded and took a sip of the Manhattan that had been in her hand through this entire discussion.

"Why not just buy some? She's got the money?" Hope questioned.

"I don't have the slightest idea, but it irks me. Those were Richard's parents' glasses. They were supposed to go to him and then to Lorelai. I don't care if they're worthless. She shouldn't have something that rightfully belongs to my family."

"No, you're right; she shouldn't. If we could only prove she had them," Hope commented, her eyes sparkling.

"What are you planning?" Emily asked, her eyebrow raised suspiciously.

Hope raised her glass to her mouth and looked at her sister over the rim, "I'll let you know when I've figured that out myself," she teased before taking a sip.

* * *

Lorelai dug around in her purse as she, Luke, and Rory walked in the direction of Sookie and Jackson's house. "Hey, either of you have any gum? Mints? Chiclet?"

"I don't think so," Rory answered, "I changed purses this morning and didn't move all my stuff."

"You?" she asked, turning to Luke.

"Sorry, left my last Chiclet in my other pants," Luke answered dryly.

Still looking deep into the bottom of her purse, Lorelai was practically begging. "Come on, one of you has to have something. Lemon head? Gumball? I'd even take a linty cough drop. I have to get this tofurkey taste out of my mouth."

The trio turned up the walkway to the house as Luke shot Lorelai an irritated look. "What are you talking about? You shoved it all onto my plate?"

"I took one bite. One lousy bite and I know this taste is gonna be with me for a week."

Rory looked shocked. "What were you thinking? I thought you learned your lesson the first year?"

"Mrs. Kim was staring at me. You know that unblinking stare she has. Well, she just kept staring and staring and staring until I finally had to take a bite."

Luke laughed. "It serves you right."

Reaching the front porch, she gave up the search of her purse and glared at Luke. "You are so mean."

Rory shifted the flowers in her hand and reached out to ring the bell, but before she could the door was opened by Jackson's brother Bo. "Happy Thanksgiving," Rory said, but he'd already turned away and started walking into the room. "Okay…" she mumbled walking through the open door and into the house.

Lorelai followed Rory in and immediately spotted Sookie sitting on the sofa. "Hey, Sook, Happy Thanksgiving."

"Hey! Come on in!" Sookie called out, holding up the blue bottle in her hand. "Pull up a Zima!"

"This does not look good," Rory muttered under her breath to Luke as her mother headed over to Sookie.

"Is she drunk?" Luke asked Rory in disbelief.

"Luke, wannna Zima?" Sookie slurred.

"Oh yeah," Rory confirmed.

"No. No thanks. Not really a Zima kinda guy," Luke answered, looking around the room at the various members of Jackson's family.

"Ah well, more for me," Sookie said chugging down the last third of the one in her hand.

Lorelai sat down cautiously next to Sookie. "Hon, slow down there. What's going on?"

Putting the empty bottle down on the coffee table, Sookie tried to stand up but couldn't quite get enough momentum. After a couple of tries, she slumped back against the couch with a loud sigh. "It's unbelievable … completely, totally, utter-erly unbelievable," she railed, shaking her head then she muttered to herself, "not a word… not even a word."

"I'm trying to follow you here," Lorelai pointed out, "but you gotta give me complete sentences at least."

"That thing!" Sookie yelled pointing, "That thing in my kitchen!"

Lorelai glanced toward the room in question. "Jackson?"

"No. That … that…" Sookie stammered, "that Frankenstein monster of a turkey. That's it! That's what it should be called! Frankenbird!"

"You have any idea what she's talkin' about here?" Luke asked leaning closer to Rory, both still standing and watching the scene unfold between Lorelai and Sookie.

"I'm as in the dark as you are," Rory replied.

Jackson poked his head out of the kitchen and tried to get Luke's attention, "Pst…pst…" He motioned for Luke to come closer. "Give this to Sookie for me, would you?" he asked, handing Luke a bottle of Zima.

Luke cast a sideways glance to toward Sookie. "You sure that's a good idea?"

Jackson nodded seriously. "Oh, it's a very good idea. Trust me. The bad things happen when she runs out."

"Jackson!" Sookie hollered from the living room. "This bottle's been empty for way more than sixty seconds!"

"Go, go, go," Jackson whispered urgently while shooing Luke away with his hands.

Luke walked over and handed the Zima to Sookie. "Here you go."

"Thanks, Luke," she said sweetly then yelled out at the top of her lungs. "Wimp!"

Lorelai placed her hand on Sookie's forearm to stop the bottle from reaching her lips. "Whoa, don't you think you should slow down there on the Zima?"

"Can't," Sookie explained, shaking off Lorelai's hand and drinking down several swallows. "Slow down on the Zima and you loose the buzz completely."

"Well, why the hell are you drinking Zima anyway?"

"It's all that Rune _claims_ he could find when Jackson sent him to the store this morning," she complained loudly looking around for Rune.

"You've been drinking Zima since this morning?" Lorelai questioned.

Sookie took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes."

"What's the matter with the turkey and why aren't you cooking?"

"Don't say that word?" Sookie admonished.

"What, cooking?" Lorelai asked.

"No, turkey," she grumbled.

"Well what's the matter with the bird then?" Lorelai asked, getting frustrated.

"That's just it, it's not_ the_ bird. It's not in there alone."

"Sookie, none of this is making any sense. You really need to start at the beginning for me here."

Sookie fortified herself with a few more swigs of Zima. "Okay, I get up this morning all ready to clean and stuff my bird. I take it out of the refrigerator, unwrap the butcher paper and something just doesn't look right, the shape and the proportions are off and it's sort of squished down. I turn it over and there's stitching up the back. Jackson, of course, is cowering at the breakfast table, can't even look me in the eye, the wimp!" she yelled the last word. "Finally, I get the story out of him. He called Stan last week and changed our order. Instead of my organically-raised, pre-ordered eighteen pound turkey, what do we have? I'll tell you what we have! Frankenbird!"

Luke nodded in recognition. "Ahhh."

"You know what she's talking about?" Lorelai asked.

"I think so," he answered turning to Sookie. "Turducken?"

Sookie nodded, looking as though she were in pain just thinking about it. "Here I am, ready to stuff the bird with my prosciutto and herbed cornbread stuffing and what do I find? The damn thing's already stuffed….with two more birds."

"How is that even physically possible?" Rory asked, her face a study in confusion.

"That's just it. It shouldn't be. It's against nature. It's an abomination. It's …. Frankenbird!" Sookie shuddered and downed another third or so of her Zima.

"So that's why the Zima bender?" Lorelai asked.

"I'm not touching that thing. I don't even want it in my oven, but there are people here and I suppose they need to eat. Jackson is just damn lucky the pediatrician put Sarah on formula last week and I can drink myself into a malt-based beverage haze or he'd be a dead man right now."

* * *

"What in the world is going on?" Lorelai asked as Luke steered the Jeep around a curve in the road. They came to the end of the cul-de-sac, which was filled to capacity with cars parked in any available inch of space.

"The whole street is blocked," Rory added from the backseat.

"What do we do?" Lorelai asked, looking to Luke.

"I'll back up and we'll park on a side street," he suggested, looking into his mirrors before moving the car. "I told you we should have walked."

"If we didn't bring the car, then we would have to leave here early to go back to the house and get the car so we can be to my parents' on time," Lorelai explained.

"It wouldn't have been so bad to have to leave early," Luke mumbled, finding a parking place between two mailboxes and a large tree that lined the road.

The trio exited the car and walked the few hundred yards to the end of the cul-de-sac. They weaved through the mass of parked cars and finally stopped to look at the sight before them.

Liz and TJ's entire front yard was packed full of people. The porch was filled to capacity. There were people all over the lawn and seemingly even around to the back of the house.

"You know, they probably wouldn't even notice if we just turned around and went back to the car…" Luke suggested.

"Luke!" Lorelai objected. "This is your sister."

"And TJ," he added with a sigh.

"Still annoyed over the lime green paint incident?" Rory whispered. Lorelai turned her head and nodded.

Hiding her smile, Rory suggested, "Why don't we just walk around. I'm sure we'll run into either Liz or TJ eventually."

"Works for me," Lorelai smiled, linking her arm with Luke's as they walked into the crowd.

"I wish I'd worn better shoes," Rory added. "Grandma is going to freak if I track dirt into her house."

"I've got some wipes in the car if you need to clean off your heels," Lorelai stated.

"You made it!" came a familiar voice as TJ suddenly appeared in front of them, holding a large pair of tongs in his hand. "I'd hug ya' but I smell like pig," he added.

"Pig?" Luke asked.

"Yeah, we thought we'd do something unique this year," TJ explained. "So, we're roasting pig in the back yard."

"That's … interesting," Lorelai smiled.

"Yeah, Liz and I went to this Renaissance fair outside Clevelandand they dug a hole in the ground and roasted a pig all day long. So, that's what we're doin'. We just dug a big hole, put some coals in there, and dropped the pig in about six o'clock this morning. She's almost done. We're about to cut her open, if you want to watch."

"The pig is … like … intact?" Lorelai asked.

"Yep," TJ confirmed. "Still got the head and everything."

Rory bent her head down, attempting to cover the cringe and disgusted look on her face.

"Where's Liz?" Luke asked.

"She and Doula are inside the house."

"I think I'll go say hello to her," Lorelai suggested, letting go of Luke's arm to take Rory with her.

"Yeah, let the ladies go inside and do lady stuff and the men will go roast the pig," TJ smiled. "Come on, Luke. You can help hoist it outta the pit."

Luke watched as Lorelai and Rory headed toward the house, realizing he had no choice but to follow TJ.

As Lorelai pushed her way onto the porch, Rory clung to her arm, trying to squeeze through the crowd. "Who are all these people?" Rory asked as they reached the front door.

"I have no clue," Lorelai replied, stepping into the foyer. Apparently the inside of the house was just as packed as the outside.

They both looked around in confusion, smiling gratefully when Liz somehow stepped out of the crowd, holding Doula in her arms. "Hey," she greeted them, bending forward to kiss them both on the cheek.

"This is quite a turnout," Lorelai smiled.

"Yeah," Liz sighed, looking around her packed house. "I thought it was going to just be family but TJ got so excited about the pig that he invited the whole neighborhood … and a lot of other people."

"Wow," Rory gushed. "You guys know a lot of people."

"Actually," Liz admitted. "I'm not really sure who most of these people are. You guys are the only familiar faces in the whole house," she laughed. "Where's Luke?"

"He's in the back with TJ," Lorelai explained.

"He's not still upset about the lime green paint, is he?" she asked.

"Uh … I think he's getting over it," Lorelai smiled.

"TJ really had good intentions. His ideas just don't always work out as he'd planned…"

"I can't believe how big Doula is," Rory gushed, noticing the lag in conversation and stepping in to fill the void. "Can I hold her?" she asked.

"Sure," Liz agreed, handing her over to Rory.

"I can't believe next month she'll be my cousin!"

"Yeah," Liz smiled. "You guys must be getting so excited."

"It's hard to believe it is a month away," Lorelai agreed. "It feels like we've been waiting a lifetime."

"You have," Rory reminded her. "You and Luke have been dancing around each other for years."

"Yeah, even I heard about the annoying woman who used to come in the diner demanding coffee," Liz agreed.

"He told you about me?" Lorelai asked, surprised.

Liz nodded. "I think Luke was the only person who didn't realize he was in love with you." Lorelai smiled at the idea that Luke had talked about her before they'd gotten to know one another.

"Well, Mom didn't realize it either," Rory added. "They were both too clueless to see it. I mean, even Grandma saw it before you guys."

"We weren't clueless," Lorelai defended herself. "We just didn't want to ruin our friendship if it didn't work out…"

"Yeah, that's what we all tell ourselves," Liz chuckled. The three of them stopped laughing at the sound of loud cheering coming from behind the house. "The pig must be ready to serve," Liz surmised.

"I guess we should head out there," Lorelai suggested as the people in the house began to walk to the back yard.

* * *

_Thanks to carterfinley, Loridhhp, LorLukealways, BFD, RedHeadLVR, and Mary for the reviews!_

* * *


	6. To Grandmother’s House We Go

**To Grandmother's House We Go**

Marilyn looked across the beautifully set dining table at Lorelai. "I hear from your mother that this is your fourth or fifth turkey dinner today. Is that true?"

Lorelai gave what she hoped looked like a casual shrug. "Well, technically, this is our fourth stop, but Mom and Dad's is always the main event."

"You say that every year," Emily commented, rolling her eyes as she took a bite of her dinner.

"And I mean it," Lorelai replied between bites, "besides, the others don't really count anyway. I mean… Mrs. Kim serves tofurkey," Lorelai explained making a face at the last word.

"What exactly is _tofurkey_?" Hope asked, her curiosity piqued by both the name and her niece's reaction to it.

"It's tofu made to look like turkey," Rory explained.

"Sounds dreadful," Richard observed, cutting himself a bite of turkey.

Lorelai's hand stopped in midair holding a forkful of dressing, "It is, Dad. Trust me. If anyone ever offers you some, run the other way… fast!"

"That still leaves two dinners besides this one, unless I've lost the ability to count to four," Marilyn quipped.

Lorelai swallowed the bite in her mouth. "Oh, no. Your counting skills are as sharp as ever there, Marilyn," Lorelai said with a forced smile.

"Sookie … well, more like Jackson made turducken," Rory announced. "It was… interesting."

"What on earth is _turducken_?" Emily asked in horror.

"It's a chicken stuffed inside a duck stuffed inside a turkey," Lorelai explained then chuckled as she continued, "Sookie called it Frankenbird."

"Seems an apt description," Emily agreed with slight laugh.

"Well, there sure wasn't any turkey at my sister's," Luke grumbled looking down at his plate in appreciation of the normal looking thanksgiving fare and placing a small bite of sweet potato on his fork.

"No. Liz and TJ roasted a whole pig," Rory announced happily.

"My heavens." Emily's eyes were wide with shock. "On Thanksgiving?"

Luke shook his head, "That's my sister for you."

"They dug this big pit in the back yard," Rory described between bites of mashed potatoes and turkey.

"They dug a pit?" Marilyn asked with disdain.

"Yeah," Rory confirmed, "TJ said they cooked it all day."

"Sounds fascinating," Hope remarked sweetly.

"It kind of was," Lorelai admitted.

"Plus, that was the juiciest pork I've ever eaten," Rory added.

"Really?" Richard asked curiously. "It was that good?"

"You should try it sometime, Dad," Lorelai stated with a mischievous gleam in her eye, "be great for a Friday night dinner or a party or something. You could do a luau theme."

"Somehow I don't think your mother would appreciate a large pit being dug somewhere in her garden," Richard answered.

"No I certainly would not," Emily agreed vehemently.

"Still, we could arrange to have the pit filled in and the plantings replaced," Richard stated, thinking out loud.

Emily eyed him unhappily. "You can't be serious."

"I am beginning to warm to the idea," he replied excitedly.

"Richard Gilmore, you're just trying to bait me."

He smirked at her across the table. "I guess you'll just have to wait and see."

With a shake of her head, Emily resumed eating her meal.

"I still can't get over the fact that the three of you have eaten four dinners today. Why with lunch and breakfast that's six meals," Marilyn said in disbelief.

"Still practicing that counting I see," Lorelai joked, though without much real humor behind it. Why couldn't Marilyn leave it alone? This very subject had caused problems only a week ago and everyone else in the room was sticking firmly to trying to ignore it.

"Well, technically, I didn't eat breakfast and lunch, so it's only these two who have eaten six meals," Luke explained gesturing to Rory and Lorelai who were sitting to either side of him. "Sometimes I think they should be studied or something. They can eat like no one I've ever seen before."

"Well, I have," Hope said, her eyes darting in her sister's direction. "You should have seen what Emily could eat when we were kids."

"Me?" she questioned. "You're the one who ate twenty-four tea sandwiches."

"Only because you dared me," Hope countered.

"I did no such thing," Emily protested.

"Yes, you did," Hope argued, "and if I recall correctly, I bested your record by two."

"Oh, please, it's hardly the same thing. The sandwiches you ate were much larger," Emily defended herself.

"And thanks so much for including the crab salad in the dare… they were my favorite tea sandwiches before that. I still can't eat crab salad," Hope complained.

"Mom, I'm shocked. How could you do that to your little sister?"

"Oh please, she started it by putting all that pepper in my soup. We were at our Great Aunt Agatha's house and I could hardly ask for a new bowl of soup. I just had to sit there and eat it."

"Have I thanked you lately for making me an only child?" Rory asked.

Lorelai quirked an eyebrow and glanced at Luke, whose face showed no emotion.

"Well, I just hope you've saved room for dessert," Emily said.

Lorelai groaned, "How can a holiday built around food have such a bad dessert? Who in their right mind looks at a big round orange thing growing on a vine and thinks, 'Hey! I know what I'll do with that. I'll make dessert,' and why hasn't this been fixed by now? Why hasn't someone come along and made up a new Thanksgiving tradition? Chocolate's always good, maybe coconut, I'd even go for cranberry or apple. Apple pie's the most all American thing there is. Why isn't that Thanksgiving dessert? Who wants to eat pumpkin pie?"

Emily opened her mouth to speak but Lorelai held up her hand and continued. "I know, I know, I'm sure it's pumpkin soufflé or pumpkin tarts or maybe even pumpkin blintzes, but it's still pumpkin, right?" Lorelai looked to Luke and Rory for support.

"What?" Luke asked. "I like pumpkin."

Rory shrugged, "Me too."

"Since when?" Lorelai demanded.

"Well, I always liked those pumpkin spice doughnuts and at this fair the other day everyone was making such a big deal about the pumpkin pie, I decided to try some. It was pretty good."

Lorelai rolled her eyes. "Where did I go wrong?"

"What? I have an open mind about foods containing vegetables. What's so wrong with that?" Rory asked defensively.

"Too much to even get into," Lorelai answered.

After a few moments of relative quiet, Emily looked to Lorelai and asked. "May I speak now?"

Lorelai nodded and gestured to her with her momentarily empty fork. "Of course, Mom. Please. Go ahead."

"Thank you," Emily replied. "I was about to say that there are pumpkin cakes for those who would like them," she glanced at Luke and Rory approvingly, then across the table to her husband. "And…"

Lorelai pounced excitedly at the word her mother had drawn out, "And? There's an and?"

"Yes," Emily kept her voice even though a smile raised the corners of her mouth and could clearly be seen in her eyes, "your Aunt seems to share your disdain for thanksgiving desserts so we also have cream puffs."

Lorelai practically bounced up and down in her seat. "Cream puffs? We're having cream puffs?"

"Emily, cream puffs and pumpkin cake, how positively decedent, and after such a wonderful meal," Marilyn announced then turned to Hope. "That's why I just love coming here for the holidays."

Suddenly Lorelai's expression turned suspicious. "Normal cream puffs, right? You're not trying to sneak some sort of carrot or squash-filled cream puffs by me or anything, are you? Sweet potato? Turnip?"

While everyone else at the table laughed at Lorelei's suspicions, Emily's lips flattened out into the thinnest possible line and she looked fixedly down at her plate. Once she was certain she could speak without giving way to laughter herself, she replied to her daughter sternly. "No, Lorelai, there are no hidden vegetables in the cream puffs." She gave that just a moment to sink in and for Lorelai to relax just a fraction before adding, "there will, however, be spinach in your coffee."

Emily smiled demurely as once again everyone at the table dissolved into peels of laughter even more so than before, this time, however, it was Lorelai that wasn't joining in. "So not funny," she muttered, shaking her head as she began to butter another dinner roll.

"That's perfect," Luke declared. "I should have thought of that myself. Slipping vegetables into her coffee."

Lorelai whirled on Luke her knife raised. "Do not joke about the coffee, mister! No one gets between me and my caffeine fix. I thought we established that years ago."

Luke looked down at the knife then back up at Lorelai then said flatly. "What are you going to do? Butter me to death?"

Richard saw his wife finally let go of her self-control and start to laugh. Chuckling himself, he asked, "Yes, Lorelai, what do you intend to do with that oh so deadly weapon you're wielding there?"

Lifting the knife up and pointing the pat of butter on the end at her father she took her finger and pulled back the top on the knife as though she were aiming a weapon. "I know what you're thinking, Dad. You're thinking is that butter really going to make it all the way over here? Well, you know me. You know my ability to aim and what I can accomplish when sufficiently provoked and you've gotta ask yourself a question… Do I feel lucky? …Well? …Do ya, Dad?"

"Okay, you're seriously going to quote Dirty Harry while threatening someone with butter?" Rory asked sarcastically.

"Quiet kid, or your next," Lorelai cautioned aiming the butter at Rory. "As a matter of fact the next person who talks gets it," she warned ominously casting the aim of her raised knife around the table.

* * *

Richard looked across at Hope where she sat opposite him in the living room, her shoes off and her feet pulled up on the sofa next to her. It reminded him very much of how his wife often relaxed when they were alone and he wondered once again what was keeping her. Everyone else had left a while ago and the three of them had planned to share a glass of brandy now that the evening was over. Emily was supposed to be dismissing the staff for the night and then joining them, but that was over fifteen minutes ago.

Hope shook her head and giggled.

"And just what is so amusing?" he asked his sister-in-law.

"Oh, just thinking of Marilyn and her gardener. Far be it from me to judge their affair, but she takes such particular glee in it. Like she has some sort of list and is checking off her conquests: gardener, chauffeur, masseur…" She was pleased when Richard began to chuckle. "What's next, her pool boy? I mean are there any clichés left?"

After an even heartier laugh, Richard commented, "Marilyn has always been quite a character."

"That's one way to put it," Hope agreed as Emily strode purposefully into the room and straight over to the bar cart.

"Emily, I poured your brandy already," Richard said, gesturing to the seat next to him on the couch, "come sit down and relax."

Emily spun around and railed at her husband. "You! Don't you even speak to me!" Advancing on him, she continued, "You just had to use your precious bar glasses. Well I hope you're happy! One is missing."

"You had them put away," he argued in defense. "How is it my fault?"

"One, you had them brought out after I'd had them put away the first time, and two, I'm sure the glass that's missing is the one you were using earlier. Jennifer was supposed to put it away after it was washed, but it somehow never made it to the basement with the others." She saw him begin to open his mouth and raised a finger in warning, "and before you accuse one of the staff of breaking it, we would have heard the crash and there wasn't one. You know where it went as well as I do." She crossed her arms and stood at the foot of the coffee table glaring at him.

"You're certain it's not here anywhere?" Richard asked still in disbelief.

"Of course I'm certain," she replied angrily sitting down next to him and reaching for her glass. "That woman makes me so angry. Where does she get off? It was bad enough when she was stealing from your mother but now she's stealing from us."

Richard set his brandy snifter down on the coffee table and stood up. "I'm just going to take another look around to be sure."

Emily rolled her eyes. "Be my guest."

Once Richard had left the room, Hope cast her sister a conspiratorial look. "You know, perhaps you should pay a little social call on Marilyn. She did say she'd just redecorated. You should go take a look around."

"If I actually thought I could get away with it, I would, but how could I look for the glasses if it were just the two of us there," Emily wondered aloud. "I can't wait for her to throw a party, she never entertains, just freeloads off the rest of the family."

"Oh I hate people like that," Hope grumbled. "I had a friend like that in France, Susette. Always at every party, every function, never once hosted an event of her own."

"It does get to be irritating, doesn't it?" Emily agreed, slipping off her shoes and pulling her feet up onto the couch.

Hope looked up at the ceiling, tapping her finger against her glass, thinking. "There has to be a way to do this, let me think."

"Well, when you come up with a plan, let me know," Emily remarked, leaning back further into the sofa cushions and taking a sip of her brandy.

* * *

"Oh, God," Luke groaned, taking his time to lower himself onto the bed.

Lorelai walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, looking at him strangely. "I've been taking a shower for fifteen minutes. I thought you were out here changing…" she spoke, smoothing down her bright blue camisole top.

Luke lay back on the bed, spreading his legs out as he tucked his hands behind his head. "I was too full to move for the first ten minutes. Then I just kinda stood in front of the dresser and didn't do anything. So finally I made my way over to the bed."

"You didn't listen to me," Lorelai shook her head as she crossed the room, her clothes in her arms. "I told you how to do it. It's a surefire method. Works like a charm," she cooed, putting her shoes in the closet and shutting the door before walking back to the bed.

"Your plan is insane," Luke groaned as she sat down on the bed and the shift caused him to move slightly.

"It is a tried and true method," Lorelai insisted. "We started eating at three o'clock. Technically, that's lunch. If you can follow the plan, then you will be fine for the whole day. Yet did you follow the plan like I told you to do?"

"I didn't eat lunch. I didn't even eat breakfast! I had a glass of water at ten o'clock!" Luke argued. "Yet even with an empty stomach who can handle that much food all in the course of seven hours?"

"That's where you went wrong. You have to pace yourself all day. You can't skip meals. It messes up your stomach and tricks your brain. That's why you have to eat like normal," she informed him, still sitting up on the edge of the bed as she looked at Luke.

"This is insane, you know that, right?" Luke prompted her, cracking his eyes open.

"For lunch you have something light, more like a mid-morning snack. And that way when you eat at three o'clock, your stomach thinks, 'oh, this is lunch' and so it doesn't fill itself up. It just thinks that it is being fed but that more is to come later."

"Only your stomach has the capability to think for itself," Luke grumbled, closing his eyes once again, his head back against the fluffy pink pillow with a peace sign on it that for once actually felt really good and made him glad that Lorelai had bought it.

"It works," Lorelai defended with a smile. "Then when we went to Sookie's, that was kinda in between a mid-day snack and dinner. So, the timing was perfect. My food had time to settle so that the meal didn't feel like it was too much. I was hungry again."

"And what was the roasted pig at Liz and TJ's?" Luke asked. "You were still hungry by then even though we'd just eaten?"

"That was kinda like an appetizer before Mom and Dad's dinner. You know, like the hors d'oeuvres that are served just before dinner to make you hungry but also to satisfy you until the meal is finally served."

"I've never had a pig roasted in someone's yard as an appetizer," Luke mumbled, turning on his side to lie more comfortably.

"Don't you want to change?" Lorelai asked, looking at him as he tried to get comfortable.

"No," Luke answered honestly, hugging the pillow with his arm.

"Get under the covers at least?" she suggested.

"No," he replied again.

"Well, I'm going to go get some of the cream puffs that Mom sent home," Lorelai grinned, pushing herself off the bed. "I won't bother to ask if you want any." Luke groaned and Lorelai smiled before exiting the room.

In the twenty minutes she was gone, Luke managed to find the energy to shower and change and make his way back to bed. He was finally feeling better and even in the mood to flip on the TV.

Lorelai walked into the room, a plate full of cream puffs and mini éclairs piled high. "You hungry yet?" she asked, her mouth full and a half-bitten cream puff in one hand. "I brought enough for both of us."

"No, thanks," Luke replied as she got into bed next to him. "You're going to get crumbs in the bed."

"It'll be fine. It's my side," she defended, taking the second bite of the cream puff and then licking her fingers clean.

Luke just looked at her in a mixture of awe and shock. "How can you still be hungry?" he finally asked.

"I told you, Luke. The plan … if you pace yourself…"

"Yeah, yeah, the plan, the plan," Luke grumbled. He held the remote out to Lorelai. "Here," he huffed. "I'm going to sleep." Lorelai bent over to kiss him goodnight, holding the plate upright in her hands so that nothing spilled off onto the sheets. "You taste like vanilla cream," Luke commented, causing her to laugh.

"Oh, I love my mother's cream puffs," Lorelai gushed, picking up another one to take a bite. "The cream … the … oh God," she groaned, licking her lips to savor all of the flavor that she could possibly get.

"Could you keep your cream puff orgasm down?" Luke groaned, turning on his side to face away from her.

"The plan, Luke, the plan…"

* * *

Richard was in bed reading when Emily entered the room and headed for their dressing area. Without looking up from his book, he muttered, "I looked everywhere I could think of and couldn't find any sign of that glass."

She paused in the doorway and turned toward the bed. "You couldn't just believe me? We heard you go outside, you weren't going through the trash, were you?"

Richard kept his eyes fixed on the book in his hands, pretending he hadn't heard her.

"I said we heard you go outside. You weren't actually pawing through the trash cans, were you?"

He shrugged but still wouldn't meet her eyes. "I might have been."

"Well, I certainly hope you showered before getting into bed," she declared.

Lowering the opened book to his lap, he gazed at her from across the room. "I always thought Trix was just being dramatic when she accused Marilyn of stealing those bar glasses but you were right."

"Could you repeat that, please?" Emily asked, cocking her head to one side as though she hadn't quite heard right.

"You heard me," he grumbled good naturedly. "I said, 'you were right.' You're always right."

"Wait right there, I'm going to go get Hope. I need a witness to this conversation," Emily teased heading for the door.

"Oh, you do not," he shot back. "When do I fail to admit that you're right?"

"And what about the other half of that equation?" she asked, a twinkle in her eye as she stopped and turned to him.

"What other half would that be?" he asked.

"If I was right, you were…" she asked moving to stand next to the bed.

Richard rolled his eyes and leaned toward her. Taking her hand, he pulled her down so that she was sitting on her side of the bed. "I was wrong. Is that what you want to hear?"

"It does have a rather nice ring to it," she observed with a grin.

"Even if Marilyn has added another stolen glass to her collection, I think it was a rather nice holiday, don't you?" he asked, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and leaning back against the pile of pillows, taking her with him.

She kicked off her slippers and pulled her feet up onto the bed, scooting closer to him. "Any holiday with both our daughter and granddaughter here that doesn't include some sort of disagreement I consider a rousing success, and with Hope here too… definitely one of the best in recent memory, I'd say."

"A sentiment I whole heartedly agree with," he replied kissing her temple.

Emily snuggled closer to him and brought her hand up to cover the book. "Are you planning to do any more reading?" she asked, trailing her fingertip across the back of his hand.

"Absolutely not," he answered quickly, putting the book aside. He rolled to face her, wrapping his arm around her waist. He nuzzled her neck and planted a kiss just below her ear before whispering, "Weren't you just worried about my rooting around in the garbage a few minutes ago?"

Emily laughed deeply as she ran her hand through his hair. "You forget how well I know you… besides I can smell your soap and your hair is still damp."

Richard raised up on his elbows and looked down into her eyes, "As I said, you're always right."

"Mmm," Emily practically purred. "Say that again."

* * *

_Thanks to carterfinley, swimmerluver, RiskaSG, Mary, and Ann Y. Mous for the reviews!!_


	7. Stirring Up Memories

_We'd like to apologize for the long delay between chapters. Somehow all three of our separate lives managed to get really busy and really crazy at the same time. We hope that it won't happen again and that we can resume regular posting. Thank you to all of you who have stuck with us through this little hiatus!_

* * *

**Stirring Up Memories**

"Hey, Mom," Lorelai called out, walking a few more steps down the hallway to her office. Emily was seated in the swivel chair, bent over the desk writing something.

"Hello, Lorelai," Emily greeted. "I was wondering where you got off to after that incident with the Johnsons and their Brianna throwing up all over the hallway."

"Yeah," Lorelai sighed, "that took a while to clean up. And it was a great start to a Monday morning, wasn't it?" she joked, though her tone sounded nothing but. "Thankfully, I can now afford to pay someone to do it for me. If it were fifteen years ago, I'd be the one scrubbing the carpet and cleaning the curtains," she shrugged.

Emily nodded, looking back down at her paper. She still didn't know how to respond to comments like that, even after all the years.

"You know, speaking of the good old days…uhm," Lorelai stammered. "Do you think you could handle this place by yourself tomorrow? I mean, Michel will be here. And Sookie is even coming in to meet with Andy during the afternoon to discuss some menus. I'm uhm … I'm going to North Carolina to visit Mia." She subconsciously held her breath, uncertain if she should have divulged the final detail.

Emily let the pen in her hand silently fall to the desk before looking up at her daughter. It took all the strength she had to show no emotion on her face, to not show the inner turmoil that she felt just at the mention of Mia's name. "That's fine, Lorelai," she replied calmly and as nonchalant as possible. "Michel and I work very well together. So, I don't see why there would be any problems."

"Great!" Lorelai smiled. "The only major thing happening tomorrow is that we've got like ten people checking in for a dental conference that is being held in Hartford. Other than that, it should be quiet. Marie is getting started on all the rooms tonight so everything tomorrow will be all set. Just let Michel check them in and maybe make sure he doesn't insult anyone during the process. Nothing major," she shrugged.

"I can handle it, Lorelai. Have a good trip," she added with a polite smile before looking back down at her papers.

"I'm not leaving yet," she added quickly. "I was thinking I may head out a few hours early. I'm going to get on the road this afternoon, spend the night half-way."

"I don't think you should be on the road late, why don't you head out now and then you'll be able to stay at that lovely hotel," Emily remarked off-handedly.

"You were afraid to let us walk outside alone," Lorelai spoke, confused.

"Well, you know what I mean. It's the kind of place you like," she corrected herself, though her comment wasn't that much better.

Lorelai frowned, slightly hurt and confused by her mother's change of tone. "I'm going to go find Andy and see if he needs anything before I go."

"Very well," Emily spoke, not looking up.

"Ok," Lorelai huffed, shuffling off down the hall.

Hearing her daughter's footsteps fade away, Emily slowly sunk back into her chair and closed her eyes. Even after all the years that had passed, all the emotions that had been so carefully ignored and closed off would come rushing back to the surface. Why did just the mention of that woman's name have the power to transport her back in time? Back to the moment everything had come crashing down in the space of a heart beat. She felt just the way she did when she'd first read Lorelai's note. She felt like her daughter was turning her back on her all over again.

Slinking into the kitchen, Lorelai took a seat at a stool that was next to one of the stainless steel work tables.

"You look a little down," Andy commented, chopping some vegetables as he glanced up at her.

"Eh, it's just my mother," Lorelai commented, waving it off. "I'm going to be out of town for a day or so and I just wanted to make sure you don't need anything while I'm gone."

"Uhm…" Andy thought for a moment. "No, I think we're fine in here."

"Great," Lorelai smiled. "I'll be back on Wednesday. But Mom will be here in my absence."

"Oh," Andy looked up. "Your mother is going to be here?" he asked.

"Yeah…" Lorelai replied, "why wouldn't she be?"

"I just … uh … I kinda figured she'd spend the day with her sister."

"Oh," Lorelai responded. It all suddenly made sense. That was why her mother had become so cold.

"She should bring Hope with her," Andy suggested, the idea causing his stomach to flutter at the thought, though he quickly admonished himself for thinking it.

"That's a good idea," Lorelai suggested. "Aunt Hope is great with people. She is also apparently quite the French pastry chef, according to Mom. She doesn't cook that often but I bet you could talk her into maybe making something special for lunch or dinner even."

Andy smiled, trying to hide his excitement at the thought of cooking with her. Why did this woman excite him so much? He barely knew her. They'd met only once before, more than twenty years ago, at that small school in west Africa, and it wasn't even he who'd recognized her but she who'd recognized him the other night. The thought of Emily's party reminded him of dancing with Hope and suddenly he realized that Lorelai was looking at him, waiting for him to say something. "Uhm, yeah, that's a great idea," he agreed, trying to cover himself. "I'm certainly not a French pastry chef, so perhaps she can teach me a few things." He put his head down for a moment, looking at what he was chopping to cover the smile that came to his face, not wanting Lorelai to figure out what he was thinking.

"Perfect," Lorelai grinned. "I'll tell Mom to bring her. This is perfect," she repeated, pushing herself from the stool as her feet hit the floor.

* * *

Emily sat at the desk in the cramped office, unable to concentrate on what she had been doing. Why did it upset her so much? Why did just the mention of Mia make her want to scream and cry and … so many things all at once? Why was it that after twenty-plus years she still couldn't prevent herself from being bothered just by the woman's name? She had tried many times to let it go. She had tried to tell herself that Mia had been there to help Lorelai when she couldn't be. And to tell herself that it was good Lorelai had found Mia or she would have been out there all alone. Mia had treated her like her own child. What mother wouldn't want their daughter to be safe and loved? So why did it still hurt so much after all these years? Well, she knew why. Yet admitting to herself that Lorelai had found a replacement, that she had found the mother she'd always wanted in Mia, was just too hard for Emily to accept.

Hearing footsteps approaching, Emily looked over to find Lorelai walking towards her again.

"Andy had a great idea," Lorelai announced. "I know I kinda sprung the Mia visit on you and that you were a bit thrown because Aunt Hope is still here and you probably wanted to spend the day with her. I didn't even think about that. Sorry," she gushed, motioning with her hands as she spoke. "But Andy suggested that you bring Hope with you tomorrow. Isn't that perfect?" Lorelai grinned, elated by the idea.

Emily thought for a moment and nodded. So Lorelai had noticed she'd been upset. Yet once again she had been clueless as to the real reason. "I think Hope would enjoy that," Emily commented.

"I even suggested to Andy that perhaps you could get her to make some French desert for him to serve at lunch or dinner," Lorelai added.

"You know she doesn't cook that often…"

"Come on, Mom, I know you can convince her …" Lorelai prodded. "You're good at that sort of thing. Aren't you the one who got Larry to give us fifteen extra pounds of beef without charging us because he'd been a day late with the last delivery?"

"That was business," Emily shrugged. Lorelai crossed her arms playfully and stared down at her mother. "Very well. I will bring your aunt with me and try my best to talk her into cooking."

"Good!" Lorelai chirped.

"But no guarantees on the cooking," Emily added.

"That's fine. I have faith in you," she smiled, happy that everything was working out so perfectly and she could go visit Mia without worrying about the Inn.

* * *

"Emily, you know I don't cook that often," Hope argued, crossing her legs at the ankles as she sat in the passenger's seat of Emily's Jaguar on the way to the Inn the next morning. Her nude colored hose matched the color of her shiny Jimmy Choos. Well, the shoes were actually Lorelai's. She had apparently bought them and yet couldn't wear them because Paul Anka was afraid of nude-color shoes. Or something absurd like that. Hope hadn't gotten the whole story. All Lorelai had said was that she would have given them to her mother but the heel was too low and her mother always wore a higher one when she went out with her father. So, she'd given them to Hope. And they were rather cute. They were a bit too flashy, being a shiny patent leather. Yet it was fitting for the outfit she wore today. The dark brown wrap-dress came down in a slight v-neck and tied nicely at the left hip. A golden pendant around her neck gave her just the right bit of shimmer up top to balance out the shoes. And despite that she had refused to cook last night when Emily brought it up, she had still worn her hair partially pulled back, the top swept into a jeweled clip that kept her hair from her face.

"You don't cook often. We both know that doesn't mean you don't know how," Emily argued.

"Em…" she sighed.

"I know you and Gerard used to bake together …" At the mention of Gerard, Hope turned her head to look absently out the window. "And I know that it is still hard to do things without him, but you have to just … get back on the horse sometimes," she finished her thought.

Hope turned her head and laughed. "Get back on the horse?" she teased her sister. "You are comparing baking to me riding a horse?"

"It's a useful analogy," Emily defended herself.

"Yeah, especially coming from the person who fell off her horse at thirteen and refused to ever ride him again," Hope added with a grin.

Emily was silent for a moment. "Actually, I'd forgotten about that," she admitted.

"Apparently so," Hope noted.

"Well, I'm the older sister. That means you should learn from me and not make the same mistakes," she twisted the situation. "I never got back on the horse but you should." Hope just sighed. "Besides, you know that I eventually get what I want out of you. I don't know why you always resist. It only prolongs the inevitable."

"Because I keep thinking that one day I'll be able to stand up to you," Hope kidded. "And besides, I would just get in Andy's way."

"No, you wouldn't," Emily argued. "It was his idea, actually. He suggested to Lorelai that I should bring you today."

"Really?" Hope breathed, feeling rather excited by the idea that he had thought about her. She'd never admit it but she'd thought about him more than once during the past few days. Surely it was just the fact that she hadn't been with a man in a while but the way his arm had rested against her back as they danced and the way he had held her hand …

"So, that means you'll do it?" Emily asked, glancing over at her sister who seemed lost in her thoughts.

"Yes, yes," Hope finally caved. "If he has the supplies for me to make something that I know how to do without a recipe, then yes, I will bake something."

"Wonderful," Emily smiled, turning into the parking lot at the Dragonfly Inn.

* * *

Lorelai knocked on the front door just as it opened. "Mia!" she exclaimed, rushing into the silver-haired woman's arms, her casual elegance and warm hart both in evidence as she enthusiastically returned Lorelai's hug. Mia was truly one of Lorelai's constants. Her close cropped silver hair was still styled exactly as the day she'd first taken in that frightened teenager and her trim figure still looked magnificent in navy slacks and a long jacket, one of her trademark scarves draped across her shoulders.

"Lorelai!" Mia cried out, hugging her tightly. When they finally broke apart, Lorelai was about to speak but Mia cut her off. "Ok, first I want to see the ring. And I want to hear about the proposal and … just tell me everything!" she declared as Lorelai held out her hand. "Oh, honey, it's beautiful. It looks just like you too!"

"It was his mother's," Lorelai explained. "Luke said he always thought he would keep it and give it to me on one of our anniversaries but when he decided to propose again, it just seemed right that he use her ring."

"Well, it's gorgeous," Mia declared, sliding her arm around Lorelai's waist as she led her into the kitchen. "I've already made breakfast. All of your favorites…"

Lorelai took a deep breath as she walked into the kitchen. "I have so missed this smell," she gushed. "I feel like I'm home at the Independence Inn all over again."

Leading Lorelai to the table, she walked the short distance to the counter and picked up two plates of pancakes, putting one in front of Lorelai, she took a seat directly across from her. "Now, you were about to tell me all about the proposal."

"I already told you about it," Lorelai reminded her.

"Yes," Mia nodded, "on the phone the next day. But I got the Reader's Digest version. Now that we're face-to-face, I want all the details."

Lorelai laughed lightly. "All right, but it's kind of silly."

"Those are the best stories," Mia added.

"Well, I went by the diner after work. We'd had a big party and so it was really late and all of Luke's customers were gone. He was cleaning up and getting ready to go home. I could tell he was acting odd but you can't always read Luke. So, I figured he was just tired. I thought he was going to tell me that he was too tired to do anything and that we should just stay upstairs. That's when he surprises me," she gushed.

"With the proposal?" Mia asked.

"No," Lorelai corrected her, "with the suggestion that we go for a walk."

"A walk?"

Lorelai nodded. "Luke never just takes a walk for the fun of it," she noted. "I knew something was up but I agreed anyways. I figured maybe he'd had a bad day or that he needed to tell me something. So, we walk for like twenty minutes and I've gotten nothing out of him. I figured he wasn't going to open up about what is going on so I suggested we just walk to my house. And he agreed but he wanted to go the long way, by Stars Hollow High."

"Okay," Mia spoke, listening attentively as they both took a few bites of their food.

"I love this, by the way," Lorelai interrupted, motioning to her plate with the empty fork in her hands.

"Good," Mia smiled, "now on with the story."

Lorelai laughed and continued. "We are walking by the school and he suddenly takes my hand and has me walk over to this tree with him. Of course I have on these really cute shoes and the gravel makes it hard to walk, so I'm protesting. He finally gets me to shut up and we're standing under this huge tree. I have no clue what is going on and that's when he gets down on one knee and pulls out this box."

"He does this at the high school? Did you know what he was doing?" she asked.

"I did but I guess I wasn't really sure of what was going on. So, I'm just standing there staring down at him, bewildered."

Mia laughed. "I'm picturing all of this in my head. What did he say?"

"He gave me this wonderful little speech about growing up and watching his parents and just saying all sorts of things that Luke never says. And then he asked me to marry him. And obviously I said yes."

"But why the high school?" Mia asked.

"Oh! Yes, I forgot that part," Lorelai smiled.

"I thought I told you not to leave anything out," Mia admonished playfully.

"He said that the first time he ever saw me was when I was walking to the high school. He obviously didn't know it at the time but I was taking a GED class … You remember, that one you found for me?"

Mia nodded. "Yes, I remember. You didn't want to go."

Lorelai smiled at how stubborn she had been. "Well, he said that he was sitting with some girl he was dating and a few friends under this tree and he looked up and saw me walking down the street and turning into the school."

"And so he decided to propose to you in the very first place he ever saw you?" Mia gushed.

Lorelai nodded. "I cried, of course. You know how Luke is about emotions. He never talks like that," she added.

"That's a wonderful story!" Mia smiled. "Now I wished that I still lived in Connecticut so you could be closer by and tell me these things sooner."

"Yeah, me too," Lorelai agreed. "I miss you."

"Yes, but now you have your mother around more often so you wouldn't need me as much," Mia smiled.

"I'd still need you," Lorelai corrected her. "I'll always need you."

"You don't need me anymore, Lorelai. You are an adult now. And you've done very well for yourself."

"Yeah, because you helped me. You took me in and you gave me the chance to have this life that I do now. I don't know where Rory or I would be without you. That's actually why I am here. I wanted to talk to you about something," she began.

"Oh?"

"I want you to be in the wedding," she spoke.

"It's only a month away. Isn't it a little late for this?" Mia asked.

"No," Lorelai laughed. "I want you to walk down the aisle when my mother does."

"Lorelai, I don't…" Mia began hesitantly.

"Mia," Lorelai reached across the table to take her hands. "You have been the closest thing I've had to a mother for most of my life. Having you in this wedding would mean so much to me."

"Lorelai," Mia began, squeezing her hands. "I feel the same way about you. However, I'm not your mother. You already have a mother. And you already had one before you met me."

"I had parents," Lorelai argued. "You were the mother I always wanted."

Mia shook her head. "I know how hurt you were when you left their house at seventeen. But you weren't hurt because your parents never loved you."

"I know they loved me," Lorelai admitted. "But Mom and I never saw eye-to-eye like you and I do. She didn't help me through the stuff you did. I want you in my wedding, Mia. I know you aren't my mother biologically but that doesn't matter to me."

Mia smiled genuinely. "The fact that you want me in your wedding means more to me than you could ever imagine. But I'm sorry, Lorelai, I can't."

"Why not?" she protested.

"I'm not your mother, Lorelai," she repeated.

"I know that!" Lorelai responded, slightly agitated.

"You have a mother, a mother who loves you very much. How do you think it would make her feel if I am there in her place?"

"You won't be in her place," Lorelai argued. "You'll just be there as like a co-mother or something."

"No," Mia shook her head. "That will hurt her. It will hurt her very much."

"This is my wedding. She should know that I want you there and you deserve to be there as much as she does."

"And I will be there," Mia soothed. "I'll be there in the front row – because no one is going to sit in front of me while I watch you get married. And I will be so proud and so happy. But I won't be in the wedding. I'm sorry, Lorelai."

"She's not even here and my mother is still controlling my life," Lorelai sighed, slumping back into her chair. "Nothing ever changes, I guess."

"Lorelai," Mia spoke sternly. "Look at me." Lorelai took a deep breath and looked up at her, tears in her eyes. "I love you like you were my own child. You know that." Lorelai nodded. "But what I feel for you is nothing compared to what your mother feels. I know you don't see it. And you don't get it, but that woman loves you. I could see it in her eyes the first time I met her. She came to the Inn because she wanted to see me, to see the woman who took you in. But I could tell how much it hurt her just to look at me. And when she was here for the wedding, she had that same look in her eyes. She was always so polite and proper. But it hurt her because I'm the woman who took you away from her."

"You didn't take me, Mia. I left," Lorelai corrected.

"In her eyes, I replaced her," Mia spoke calmly. "I don't want your mother to feel like that on your wedding day. I want her watch her daughter get married and to enjoy every moment of it. You two have worked so hard to get to where you are today."

"But Mom knows you were a part of my life. You didn't replace her. You just …" Lorelai sighed. "You were just there when she wasn't."

"Lorelai," Mia spoke sweetly, "I love you and maybe you don't understand right now why I can't be in your wedding but you will one day." Lorelai sighed. "I know that this isn't what you wanted me to say. But the fact that you came all this way to ask me means the world to me. And that's all I need, that you came here to ask me. That's enough for me. But for you and your mother, my being part of the wedding would set you back too far."

Lorelai nodded, her head bent down as she bit her lip.

"Now, finish your breakfast and then we'll go for a walk. It's much too beautiful of a day to sit inside. Besides, if we leave any leftovers, Howard will finish them and he's supposed to be on a diet." Lorelai laughed and looked up, her eyes still a bit teary. Mia squeezed her hands once again before letting go. "Now, eat."


	8. Rolling Pins and Revelations

_**Rolling Pins and Revelations**_

"Flour … do you have more flour?" Hope asked, her hands wrist-deep in a bowl of dough.

Andy turned his head to look over where she stood a few feet away. "Yeah, I'll get it for you."

"Thank you," Hope smiled as he walked away and a few seconds later returned with a large scoop of flour. "Could you sprinkle some on the work surface so that I can turn this out on the counter to roll it?" she asked.

"Sure," he agreed, smiling at her as he sprinkled it down and she transferred the contents of the bowl onto the counter. "So, where did you learn to bake like this?" he asked, returning to his own work a few feet away.

"Well, I had to learn the basics when I was younger, but it was my late husband who taught me true French cooking and baking," she smiled at the memory, causing herself to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Andy asked.

Hope laughed again as she dusted her hands with flour and began working the dough into a ball. "I was a mess at first. Gérard used to get so frustrated with me. He would throw his hands up in the air, say all sorts of colorful things and then finally come over and help me. And together we'd make whatever it was we were doing and it would be wonderful. This may not even turn out. I haven't baked much since he died," she shrugged.

"I'm sure it will be wonderful," Andy encouraged her. "Besides, who says he isn't with you anymore, even if he's not physically here?"

Hope turned her head to look at him, smiling. "Thank you," she nodded, gazing back down. She picked up the rolling pin and after blinking her eyes a few times, she began flattening out the dough. "You've had me talking for a full hour now. Yet I know very little about you. You were in the Peace Corps. How did that happen?" she asked pausing to look up at him.

"Well," he took a deep breath and considered the question. "You know, I'm not sure," he continued with a chuckle. "It just always seemed like something I wanted to do. Growing up in the sixties and seventies people always talked about the Peace Corps. Of course, it was also a convenient excuse not to have to be a grownup and get a real job for a few more years." Hope smiled at his joke and waited. She could tell by the way that he spoke there was much more to the story. "It quickly turned into something a lot more than that. I ended up in places I'd never imagined and the things I saw…"

His eyes closed as he looked away from her and she reached out taking hold of his wrist. "I know what you mean."

He looked back into her eyes and saw what he himself was feeling. "I know you've seen more than your share of the world's suffering. You've dedicated your life to helping others while I only gave up a few years."

"I know that you made a difference to a great many people in those 'few years.' You certainly brightened the lives of the children at that school." She gave him a reassuring smile and a light squeeze before returning to her rolling. "Is that where you became interested in cooking?"

"Indeed it was," he answered with a smile. "My mamma is a fantastic cook, world class, and as a kid I'd do my homework at the kitchen table while she fixed dinner. Sometimes she'd let me chop something but I never really cooked. Then about six months after I got to Cameroon, our cook got sick and being low man on the totem pole, I had to take over kitchen duty. Somehow all those years sitting at my Mamma's table and watching her came back and I was cooking. Best of all people were eating what I cooked and enjoying it."

"I can see where that would become addictive. What happened when the cook got well?" she asked curiously.

"She was reassigned," he answered modestly.

Hope giggled. "Where to?"

"Yard maintenance," he replied doing his best to keep a straight face. "I didn't realize it at the time, but those were the best years of my life. I was doing something that actually made a difference in the world."

"What brought you back to the US?" Hope asked.

"My father died," he answered. "And my mother was all alone. I realized that I couldn't be half way around the world if something happened to her. I didn't make it back in time to say good-bye to my father and the idea of having that happen again was too much."

"Does your mother live near here?"

Andy nodded. "She married a man from New Haven and moved up here to Connecticut about two years ago. That's when I decided to try and find work near her. She's the only family I've got and I didn't want to be so far away from her."

"That's very sweet," Hope smiled.

"Well, I'm a southern boy. We love our mammas," he grinned, looking up to catch the smile on her face. God, she was even more beautiful when she smiled. His thought made him blush slightly and he looked away quickly.

Hope felt herself inhaling sharply; just the way he looked at her sometimes sent a shiver through her. This was insane. He was just a very nice man, that's all.

"Well, don't you two look cozy," Emily smiled, walking into the kitchen.

"Yes," Michel agreed, standing next to her. "They look like they belong in here together."

Both Hope and Andy turned around at the same time.

"The Dannons want to tell you how much they enjoyed lunch," Michel spoke to Andy. "They insist that you must come out and say good-bye."

"Sure," Andy nodded. "Those are the folks that ate here last week too, right?"

Emily nodded. "Yes, they are here often."

"Okay," Andy nodded again. "Just let me uh…" He glanced at the oven to confirm what his nose was telling him. It was time to get the puff pastry out of the oven.

"I can take over for you," Hope suggested.

"No, no, you're busy," Andy noted, "I just have to get these out now or they'll burn."

"It's fine," Hope insisted. "I'm almost done rolling out the crust. Emily can finish it for me and I'll take care of the puff pastry for you. Is that fine, Em?"

"Sure," Emily agreed, crossing the room to wash her hands and moving to where Andy had been.

"Thanks," he repeated again, wiping his hands on his apron and following Michel out of the kitchen.

"You two looked very comfortable in here," Emily noted as Hope turned to the oven and removed the pans of hors d'oeuvres from the oven.

"Stop it," Hope breathed. "He's a very nice man. That's all."

"Yes," Emily agreed. "And he's very single too."

* * *

Lorelai carried a large bowl of popcorn from the kitchen to her living room. Hope trailed close behind her with a platter, one half covered in unwrapped ding dongs the other piled high with mini powdered sugar doughnuts. Setting the bowl on the coffee table, Lorelai looked up at her Aunt. "So, cream soda or root beer?"

Hope smiled. "Oh, root beer definitely."

Lorelai nodded and headed back into the kitchen just as the doorbell rang. She called out, "That'll be the pizza. There's money on the table in the hall."

Hope picked up her purse from the back of the couch and headed for the door.

In the kitchen, Lorelai poured the drinks then tucked a roll of paper towels under one arm and headed back into the living room. As she entered, Hope was holding the pizza box in one hand and putting her purse down with the other. "Hey you didn't have to do that."

"Oh, please, it's the least I could do after inviting myself over here tonight," she answered putting the pizza down on the coffee table and sitting down on the couch.

Lorelai put the drinks on the table and flopped down next to her. "Oh, please. You're welcome anytime."

"Well, I didn't mean to run Luke off," Hope commented.

Lorelai ripped off two paper towels and handed one to Hope. "He has early deliveries in the morning. Trust me. He's just as happy spending the night at his place." She reached for the box, flipped back the lid pulling out a gooey piece of pepperoni pizza and taking a bite. Quickly she started fanning her hand in front of her face. "Hot," she breathed out, reaching for her glass and taking a quick drink. "Damn… cheese burn."

Hope giggled at her antics. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Lorelai rolled her eyes and shook her head disparagingly. "Damn, Manelli's must have bought a new delivery car. They never get pizza here fast enough to still be this hot."

"Well, I think I'll benefit by your example and wait a few minutes," Hope said taking a handful of popcorn.

"So what are Mom and Dad up to tonight? You said they were going out." Lorelai asked.

"Dinner with a client," Hope answered.

"Ah, one of Mom's stuffy dinner parties. I can see why you'd want to steer clear of that," Lorelai quipped, sarcasm evident in her voice as she reached for a ding dong.

"Oh, now give your mother a break," Hope defended. "I thought you two were getting along so much better these past few months. What's going on?"

Lorelai dropped the chocolate-covered cake back onto the plate. "Why is everyone defending Mom all of a sudden like she's some sort of saint? Luke, Mia, you … if Mom's fan club gets any bigger, I'll have to move to another state."

"She's hardly a saint, but she is your mother," Hope countered frankly.

"Don't remind me. At the moment I'm trying to forget," Lorelai groaned. "I went to see Mia the other day. The one person that I thought would always be on my side and now Mom's somehow even gotten to her." Lorelai was getting angry as she spoke. "I'd sure like to know what she said when we went to her wedding last year. She wasn't even supposed to be there, you know. She just invited herself along with me and Rory."

"You know, I've had just about enough of this nonsense between the two of you," Hope declared, turning to face her niece more fully. "I don't know what has got your knickers in a twist this time, but for years I've stood by and watched this hurtful cycle you and your mother have fallen into and I just can't do it anymore. Do you have any idea what all this did to your mother? Do you? No, you probably don't because you've never really cared about how your mother felt in all of this. It's all been about you. You and how repressed you were and how stifled you felt. But what about your mother? She had to stand by and watch her only daughter leave, taking her only grandchild with her."

Lorelai was stunned by her Aunt's outburst, but not too stunned to defend herself. "Clearly she wasn't all that affected since she didn't have hardly anything to do with us for fifteen years." Lorelai paused and took a deep breath, "Look, I'm not getting into this with you."

Hope crossed her arms in determination. "Well, that's just too bad because I'm getting into it with you."

Lorelai crossed her own arms mirroring her Aunt's posture and twisted sideways on the couch to face her. "The only reason we have any relationship at all is because I went to them."

"You honestly have no idea how this affected your mother do you?" Hope was beginning to realize just how truly oblivious Lorelai was to her mother's feelings. She'd always seen her behavior as a spiteful or callous, but if Lorelai really didn't understand how her actions effected Emily…

"No, I guess I don't. Years ago, Dad said something about her being in bed for a month, but he only said that in anger, so I'm sure it was an exaggeration."

"It was not an exaggeration Lorelai," Hope corrected her softly. "Your father was telling you the truth."

"Oh…" Lorelai looked away from her Aunt and began fidgeting with a fray that was starting to form at the knee of her jeans.

"Yes, oh..." Hope replied with a nod. It seemed comprehension was finally dawning on her niece.

Lorelai continued to play with the thick thread. "I...I just assumed he was...I mean we were arguing and..."

"Lorelai, your mother loves you." Hope reached an arm across the back of the sofa and dropped her hand onto Lorelai's shoulder. "She may not be able to show it in the same way you're able to show Rory but she loves you. Do you honestly think she would have left your father if she didn't? That should have proven to you how much she wants you in her life. She was willing to walk out on a 39-year marriage just because she was afraid of losing you again. Willing to walk out on a man whom she loves more than life itself because of _you_."

Lorelai looked dazed, the new revelation sent her head spinning again. "I don't understand. The separation...it was about Dad and his work and not being home and not listening anymore...what does that have to do with me?"

Hope shook her head. "I can't believe you didn't see any of this. Yes, they were having some problems, but nothing that they hadn't dealt with before. Lorelai, your mother left your father because he was suing your boyfriend. She was afraid that would drive you away and your father refused to back down."

Lorelai still looked stunned, her world had just suddenly turned upside-down. "I just...I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything to me," Hope replied with a final squeeze to her shoulder, "say it to your mother."

Lorelai bit her lip and nodded her agreement.

Hope gave her an encouraging smile then turned and picked up a slice of pizza. "I thought you were going to show me this classic movie of yours…_Donnie Darko."_

"I still can't believe you've never seen it," Lorelai muttered, reaching for the remote to begin the film.

* * *

_Thanks to Loridhhp, carterfinley, LorLukealways, Mary, B. Alex Milligan, RiskSG, and VoyICJ for the reviews. We're glad to know you all are still interested!_


	9. Reliving the Past

**Reliving the Past**

Lorelai sat at her desk, her left hand propping up her chin and her right hand tapping a pen incessantly against the book that lay open in front of her. What Hope had said kept repeating itself in her mind. Her mother didn't get out of bed for a month. Her mother left her father because she was afraid of losing her. She was willing to walk away from thirty-nine years of marriage for her daughter. It just didn't make sense. None at all. It simply couldn't be the truth, at least not the whole truth. Hope was biased. Clearly she was biased toward her mother. She would never leave her father over her. Never. So why would Aunt Hope say that? Why would she claim Mom left Dad because of her if that weren't the truth?

Pushing her chair back, she dropped the pen to the desk and walked from the room, quickly making her way down the hall to the lobby.

Michel and Emily were huddled next to the computer.

"So, I click here if I want to open a new occupancy record," Emily spoke slowly as Michel nodded. "And then I fill in all the fields in yellow…"

"Yes," Michel confirmed. "If you don't, the computer won't let you go forward with the reservation. You must get this information from the guests."

"That's simple enough," Emily smiled.

"So, you think you can remember it?" Michel asked.

"I think so," Emily agreed with a wide grin.

"Wonderful!" he exclaimed.

"Uh, guys, what is going on here?" Lorelai questioned, clearing her throat.

Michel and Emily both turned around to see Lorelai standing behind them.

"I was just showing your mother how to make reservations," Michel explained.

"Why? I'm sure Mom has better things to do than your job," Lorelai snapped.

"My annual vacation is coming up in a few weeks. I just figured your mother would be helping out while I am gone," he continued, confused by Lorelai's harsh behavior.

"I asked him to show me," Emily injected. "I assumed you'd want me to help out a bit more while Michel is away." She eyed her daughter, trying to decipher her unexpected reaction.

"Could I talk to you, Mom?" Lorelai asked.

"Lorelai, I don't see why this is bothering you…" Emily insisted, glancing to Michel who was as confused as her.

"It's not about this. Learning how to use the reservation system is fine," she waved with her hand, dismissing the subject. "I need to talk to you about something."

"All right," Emily agreed. They both remained in place, looking at one another.

"In my office," Lorelai clarified, turning to walk away.

Emily looked over at Michel and shrugged, electing to follow her daughter down the hall. As she stepped into the small office, she remained in the doorway. Turning around, Lorelai grasped her mother's arm and pulled her further into the room, reaching for the doorknob and allowing the door to close behind her.

"Lorelai, what is going on?" Emily demanded, stepping away from her and shaking her arm free.

"Did you leave Dad because of me?" Lorelai asked, deciding to skip the pleasantries and get straight to the point.

"What?" Emily frowned, the question taking her by surprise, rendering her unable to speak for a moment.

"It's a simple question, Mom. Did you leave Dad because of me?" she repeated.

"This is none of your business," Emily insisted, moving towards the door. However, Lorelai stepped in front of her, blocking her ability to leave.

"If it was about me, then it is my business," Lorelai argued, staring down her mother, silently daring her to walk around her to get to the door.

"No," Emily stated firmly, "my marriage is not your concern."

Lorelai groaned and shook her head. "This … this," she spoke, flamboyantly raising her arms and flinging them around, "this is why we will never get past being just mother and daughter."

"I won't share the private details of my marriage with you, so we can't be close?" she spat out in anger and frustration. "No, this…" Emily copied the motions that Lorelai had just made. "This is the excuse that you use to keep me out of your life! You find any tiny little thing you can and then you use it to build an entire, elaborate story about how cold I am and how disapproving I am and how horrible it is to be my daughter. And then suddenly it is my fault you won't even share the most basic details of your life with me."

"That's not true!" Lorelai objected angrily. "I have shared a lot with you these past few weeks, about the wedding, about Luke…" she defended.

"Because I've forced you," Emily clarified.

"Not on everything," Lorelai insisted. "I've made a real effort to not act like I used to and keep things from you. So, why can't you do the same? Why couldn't you just tell me that you left Dad because of me?"

"That is not how I was raised, Lorelai. I was not raised to share those sorts of personal things with my daughter." Emily nodded her head, looking away. "You don't put that kind of burden on your child."

"Well, I wasn't raised to put my elbows on the dinner table but I still do," Lorelai countered. "So what if you were raised one way? Times change, Mom. People change. You and I are not the same people we were twenty years ago. So why can't we just stop acting like we are?"

Emily was silent for a moment and Lorelai stepped away from the door, accepting that her mother was not going to open up to her no matter how hard she pushed.

"You weren't the only reason," Emily spoke softly, moving to sit down in the desk chair. "There were other reasons, too. We hadn't been happy for a very long time, well before he and Jason started working together. You were just the final straw," she sighed. "I had essentially already lost your father and when he pushed you away, I was afraid you'd once again think I was choosing him over you."

"You should have told me. If I'd known…" her voice trailed off.

"Nothing would have been different," Emily snapped.

"Everything would have been different," Lorelai spoke, her voice rising. "I would have known that you cared, that you actually cared about having a relationship with me –"

"There it is again," Emily groaned, her anger once again sparked. "This is what it always comes back to, isn't it? I didn't care. I never gave a damn about you. I was so cold and so horrible that I drove you away. Well, you know what? I'm sick of it. I'm sick of defending myself. I'm sick of hearing about what a horrible childhood you had. I was there too, Lorelai, and I remember a very happy little girl!" Throwing her hands up in the air, she marched to the door and flung it open, exiting the room in a fury as the door slammed shut behind her.

* * *

"I was wondering where you were," Hope smiled, stepping into Lorelai's room. "The door was open … is it all right if I come inside?" she asked, looking over at her sister who was seated on Lorelai's bed.

Emily's back was turned to her but Hope could see her slight nod, though she remained silent. Crossing the room, she sat down on the opposite side of the bed, behind her sister.

"We had a fight, if that's what you were wondering," Emily finally spoke. "Well, we argued and then we actually talked about our relationship … then we argued again," she sniffed.

Hope was silent for a moment. "Can I say something?" Emily didn't reply. "I may be the younger sister but I think that still gives me the right to say this. I've known you longer than anyone else on this earth. So, I know enough about you to speak with some authority. It has been over twenty years, Emily. She took that baby and she left two decades ago. Yes, it was horrible. I remember what it was like for you. I know the pain that you felt and how devastated you were. But it was _twenty_ years ago," she stressed again. "Lorelai is back now. Maybe you had to bribe her into returning and into letting you see Rory. But it worked. She came back to this house and now she actually comes here of her own volition. I know what a major step that is for the two of you," Hope reminded her. "You get to see her any time you want. You even get to work with her, Emily. I know that you still feel that pain you did all those years ago when she left. But you can't allow that to overshadow the present. Lorelai is here _now_. She is part of your life _now_. That is what matters, Emily, not what happened twenty years ago. Right now is what matters."

Emily remained silent and finally Hope pushed herself up and walked to the door. "Why is it that you have to live thousands of miles away?"

Hope stopped in the doorway, turning around to see Emily looking back at her. Despite the tears in her eyes, she was laughing. "You know me, Em. I've always been hard-headed. Isn't that what you said when I decided to move to Paris?"

"Well, that was in the past," she teased.

"Oh, is it now?" Hope sighed, crossing the room once again and sitting down next to her sister.

"I hope so." Emily reached for hand. "I think maybe it is time that you finally come home."

"Oh, Em," she sighed, leaning against her sister.

"I could stand having a sister that lives on the same continent," Emily noted, playfully swaying to the side and bumping Hope's shoulder with her own.

"I'm sure Richard would be glad to have you out of his hair," Hope teased, pushing back against her sister.

"I can think of someone other than Richard who would be very glad if you were around more often," Emily grinned.

"Who? Lorelai?" Hope asked, turning her head to look at her sister.

"You know very well who I am talking about," she insisted.

"No, I don't … you …" Hope stopped midsentence, narrowing her eyes. "You are not serious."

"The two of you are smitten with each other," Emily pointed out the obvious.

"He is a decade younger than I am," Hope countered.

"So what?" Emily shrugged. "Any man would kill to have you."

Hope laughed. "You are so good for my ego."

"Does this mean you will come back to Hartford?" Emily asked hopefully, all traces of playfulness gone from her voice.

"It means I'll think about," she conceded as Emily raised her eyebrows and giggled.

* * *

Emily stopped in the doorway to the library, her purse hanging from her left shoulder and her black pea coat folded neatly over her arm. She'd been on her way home for the night, but couldn't help pausing to study her daughter for a moment. It had been an uncomfortable day. They'd both been perfectly polite, but that was it. Polite. Not friendly or even casual, but polite. Watching as Lorelai sat at the small reading table, finally, she worked up the nerve to force herself to speak. "Lorelai, can I ask you something?"

"Would it really stop you if I said no?" she retorted.

Emily couldn't tell if her daughter were joking or not but she chose to continue anyways. "I'm being serious here, Lorelai."

"Ok," she stated, straightening up a bit as Emily walked in her direction, stopping next to one of the floor-length bookcases and looking up at it.

Emily's eyes scanned over the numerous titles in front of her, ranging from mysteries to works of ancient literature.

Lorelai watched her mother tentatively, uncertain of what to make of Emily's uncommon behavior.

"Why don't you remember the same past that I do?" she finally asked, turning to look at her daughter.

Lorelai regarded her strangely and shook her head, clearly not understanding her mother.

"You have this version of your childhood that I don't remember," she clarified. "No, it wasn't always perfect …" She paused for a moment, "but I listen to you at times and I think that we somehow don't even have the same memories. I almost wonder if I imagined all of these good times that we had … because you don't seem to remember them." Breaking her gaze, Emily turned back to the bookcase, skimming over the titles once again as she spoke. "I remember a six year old little girl that used to beg me to let her sleep in my bed when her father was out of town. And an eight-year-old child that would wave to me from the window when it was snowing and she was outside playing, getting wet and dirty. Or the child that used to do her math homework with her father and then end up being the one to teach him something new. I just …" She stopped speaking and turned around once again. "Why don't you remember any of that?" Emily asked. "I know it happened; I was there. But why don't you remember any that?" she pleaded, needing an answer. She needed to understand. She needed Lorelai to make her understand.

Lorelai took a deep breath, looking down at her hands. "It isn't that I don't remember them, Mom," she admitted. "I just … I had to bury it all, you know?" She looked up at her mother, hoping she understood. But she didn't. How could she?

Emily shook her head, clearly baffled.

Lorelai struggled for her words. "I had to forget all the good times we had. I had to convince myself that things were always bad and that …"

"That what, Lorelai?" she asked, confused by her daughter's vague explanation.

"That I was justified in leaving," she shrugged, looking down at her hands, unable to keep her mother's gaze. "It was the only way that I could go. And I knew that I didn't have a choice. I had to leave. I just couldn't allow myself to think about the good times … ever. It would only make things harder."

Emily was silent, staring blankly ahead. Lorelai couldn't read her as she looked up once again. Taking a deep breath, Emily nodded her head. "It was really that bad?" she finally asked.

"Mom," Lorelai sighed. "I was sixteen and I had a baby."

"I know that, Lorelai," Emily breathed, sensing that they were about to have the same argument that they'd had a million times over the past two and a half decades.

"I'm just … I'm just trying to say that we all made mistakes and we all hurt each other. I don't think any of us knew what was really going on. We were living different lives." Emily nodded slightly, still looking away. "Mom…" Lorelai prodded. Her mother finally turned her head to look at her. "It's been over twenty-three years. That is a long time and so much has changed. We're not the same people that we were then. I think maybe it's time that we let go of the past. I know that's easier said than done, but …"

Emily bit her lip, nodding her head slightly before looking away again. "All of this won't go away over night," she stated. "I've tried to let go of the pain but you just don't forget some things, no matter how hard you may try."

"I know," Lorelai breathed, realizing that she walls she had built were cracking and the one thing she had never allowed herself to think was starting to seep inside – the thoughts of what it must have been like for her mother after she left.

"You're right," Emily finally admitted. "Letting go would be a relief … but how do we do that? I don't know how to do that, Lorelai."

"I don't know either, Mom," Lorelai conceded. They were silent for a few moments, until Lorelai spoke. "Can I ask you something?" Emily nodded. "After I left … Dad said that you didn't get out of –"

Emily cut her off before she could continue. "I … I can't talk about that time, Lorelai. I just can't." Fidgeting with the coat that hung over her arm, Emily moved to the doorway. She couldn't handle this much longer. The pain, the memories, the emotions that were being invoked were too much to handle all at once. "Lorelai," she spoke, turning around slowly yet not quite facing in Lorelai's direction, "you once asked why I've never cared. If you ever thought that I don't love you …"

Lorelai shook her head, interrupting her mother, "I know, Mom. I've always known that."

Emily nodded, biting her lip as she turned away again and left the room.

* * *

Lorelai pushed herself up from the old, wooden chair and walked slowly down the hallway to her office. There were so many thoughts swirling around in her head and she felt dizzy and confused. This was why she hadn't allowed herself to think about it. This was why she had worked so hard to shut out those emotions. It was as if twenty-five years of pain were starting to bubble up and drown her. Her throat felt constricted and her chest felt tight, as if she couldn't breathe. Finally reaching her office, she stumbled inside, bumbling around as she tried to push things out of the way so she could shut the door. As it closed, she fell against it, sliding to the floor. Burying her face in her hands, she just wanted it to stop. She wanted the pain of what it must have been like to lose the child she loved so dearly and how her mother must have felt to just go away and leave her alone. But they wouldn't go away. They had been shoved under the rug for too many years and now they weren't going away.

* * *

_Thanks to carterfinley, Loridhhp, Ann Y. Mous, B. Alex Milligan, LorLukealways, Mary, SheilaBryant, RiskaSG, and gilmorefan for the reviews - we greatly appreicate the time that you guys take to let us know whether you are enjoying the story!_


	10. It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like

**It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Hogmanay**

"Now, are you sure you've got everything?" Emily asked looking around the guest room.

"I'm sure," Hope answered as she zipped closed the small carry-on bag sitting on the dresser.

"You have your coat downstairs," Emily ticked off her mental list, "and you left a sweater out for the plane?"

"Yes, and yes," her sister answered rolling her eyes.

"What about a scarf and gloves?" Emily asked with concern.

Hope shouldered her bag and used her free hand to guide her older sister toward the door. "I've been dressing myself a long time now, Em. I'll be fine."

Emily smiled and shook her head, "Oh you," she admonished as they headed for the stairs to the foyer.

Hope's suitcases were set out neatly near the front door and she placed the carry-on bag on the top of the arrangement. Turning around, she saw her sister gazing at her wistfully from the bottom of the stairs.

"Are you sure you can't stay longer?" Emily asked sadly.

Hope took a deep breath. "I wish I could, but you know I have obligations and responsibilities at home."

Emily gave herself a bit of a shake and moved closer. "Oh, I know you do, of course. I just enjoy having you here and I miss you," she explained brushing a lock of her sister's blond hair off her face.

"I'll miss you too, but you know I'm always just a phone call away," Hope replied, leaning in close and hugging her. "I'll be back soon for the wedding."

After a long moment Emily stepped back. "You know with the wedding and everything, we're going to be home for Christmas this year. You should come early and spend the holiday with us."

"I have people who need me, Emily" Hope reasoned.

"You have people who need you here too, you know," Emily countered.

"I'll think about it, I promise," Hope answered, "but you know I like to make sure that the children at the hospital know they aren't forgotten at Christmas."

"I know, and you can do that and still spend the holiday with family. There's no reason that you can't still make all the arrangements. You have people at the foundation who will make sure that things are done correctly."

"True," she agreed reluctantly.

Emily shrugged, trying to lighten the moment again. "It's just an idea. We'd love to have you, and I'm sure Lorelai would love to have your help with the wedding."

"Well, you know there is no way I'll miss that," Hope declared with a grin as the doorbell rang.

"Okay, for the moment, we'll leave it at that," Emily agreed walking over to the door.

"Car for the airport for Mrs. Rousseau_"_ the limousine driver asked.

"Yes," Emily answered opening the door wider and gesturing to the suitcases. The driver automatically picked them up and walked back out to the long black car parked in the driveway.

"I still say it wasn't necessary for you to get a car for me," Hope remarked, "a cab would have been just fine."

"Oh, don't be silly," Emily brushed off the remark with a wave of her hand. "I won't have my sister riding in some strange taxicab." Hope picked up her coat and Emily helped her into it. "You know, I could ride with you to the airport if you like."

Turning around and putting her purse over her shoulder Hope looked at Emily seriously. "Nonsense. You'd just have to turn around and come back and you need to get to the Inn. You're not going to use me as an excuse to avoid it any longer."

"I am not using you as an excuse and I'm not avoiding anything," Emily protested.

"If you say so," Hope replied, clearly not convinced. She leaned in and gave Emily a kiss on each cheek which Emily warmly returned.

"Have a safe flight, and you call me when you get home. I want to know you arrived safely," she instructed.

"I will," Hope replied before walking outside. The driver standing next to the car opened the door for her and she climbed in with a wave.

Emily watched the tinted rear window of the car until it pulled onto the street and drove out of sight. She hoped that her sister would decide to come back in time for Christmas. This was the first one that she and Richard would be spending at home in quite a while and the house always seemed so empty at Christmas when it was just the two of them, which was why they usually went away for the holiday. Well, things would be busy no matter what with the wedding just the following week. There were still almost four weeks between now and then. Plenty of time for things to get back into a rhythm with Lorelai. Of course that also meant there was plenty of time for any one of a hundred things to go wrong too. Finally deciding that she couldn't do anything about it either way, Emily noticed for the first time how cold it was outside and that she wasn't wearing her coat and she quickly headed back inside the house.

* * *

Emily placed the last of the dishes in the dishwasher and lifted the door closed then got two bowls out of the cabinet. She pulled two spoons out of the silverware drawer and placed everything on the island turning to the freezer. Sorbet would have to do for dessert. She hadn't expected Richard back until tomorrow so she'd let the maid go early and fixed a simple supper herself.

"Do you want any whipped cream on your sorbet?" Emily asked, raising her voice loud enough so that Richard could hear her in the dining room. She dipped her spoon in the container, dishing a bit out onto her desert.

"What?" he replied, seated in the dining room.

Emily sighed, rolling her eyes. "Whipped cream … sorbet … yes or no?" she asked, her voice raised just a bit louder.

"Whip what?" he called, a smile playing upon his lips as he silently pushed his chair back from the table.

"Damn it, Richard!" Emily called out, the spoon clinking against the counter. "Do you want any whipped cream on your-"

"On my what?" he asked, standing in the doorway with a mischievous look on his face, his arms crossed over his chest.

Emily looked over at her husband and shook her head, having noticed the unmistakable look in his eyes. "Sorbet, Richard, your sorbet…" She motioned toward the two bowls with her free hand.

"I can think of somewhere else I'd rather have it," he grinned, moving towards her, his left hand running up her back and resting atop her shoulder.

"Richard, please behave," she begged, as he dipped his finger in the tub of whipped cream.

Emily's eyes widened, having seen what he was doing out of the corner of her eye. "Don't you dare! Richard Gilmore!" She started to back away but his hand slid to her hip and held her in place, pressing against her back against the island.

Wiping his finger cross her lips, he quickly bent down and covered her mouth with his.

Emily grasped his hand, refusing to let him touch her again as their kiss lingered. They shared a long look but finally she glanced to the side and dipped a finger into the whipped cream. Richard watched as she brought her finger to her lips and licked it, smiling up at him as she did so.

"Where did you say that you wanted your whip cream?" she asked.

Trailing his finger back through the whipped cream, he brushed it over the nape of her neck. Richard bent his head down, moving to kiss her neck. "Here." He kissed her cheek. "Or here." He kissed her nose. "Or here maybe."

* * *

Lorelai and Luke walked up the front stairs of Stars Hollow Elementary School. Normally at six forty-five in the evening the place would be a ghost town, but tonight it was buzzing with activity. White snowflakes and golden stars cut out of construction paper with varying degrees of dexterity hung from the ceiling of the entryway.

"I know I've asked you this before, but humor me… why is this whole pageant thing happening the first week of December? Isn't it a little early? Oh, and while we're at it, why do I have to even be here?"

Lorelai smiled at him as they stepped into the line of people waiting to enter the auditorium. "Okay, the pageant is happening now because of Hanukkah, Hanukkah is early this year, so the pageant is early this year, and you're here because you love me."

Luke rolled his eyes but couldn't completely hide the amusement in them.

"Here you go," a little girl about ten handed them each a folded piece of paper that served as the program for the evening. "Happy Holidays."

"Thank you, Sweetie," Lorelai bent down to the girl's eyelevel and said sweetly. "That's a very nice costume you have on there. Are you an elf?"

The little red-haired girl stuck her chin out proudly and declared, "I'm a gnome."

Lorelai smiled indulgently at the child. "A Christmas Gnome?"

"No, I'm Beskytte, protector of all woodland creatures who are endangered by man and threatened by the harsher winters of global warming."

Lorelai saw Luke's mouth open as if he were about to say something and pushed him forcefully into the school auditorium. "Okay then, well see you later." Spying Sookie and Jackson staking out several seats in the fourth row, she steered Luke in that direction, weaving them through the maze of nervous children, anxious parents, and indulgent grandparents.

A little boy dressed in a squirrel costume bumped into Luke's leg in his hurry to get backstage. Luke looked down and grumbled to Lorelai, "You told me this was a Christmas pageant. Where is there a squirrel or a gnome in Santa's workshop or even in the Manger scene?"

"Not sure… they've gotta cover all the holidays now. Can't just single out Christmas," Lorelai explained as the pair squeezed past Jackson, Martha and Sookie on their way to their seats.

Sookie overheard the conversation and leaned partially across Lorelai looking at Luke and rolling her eyes. She whispered in hushed tones. "The only way they can even get away with singing Jingle Bells is if they add something about every winter holiday."

Luke flipped open his program and read the scene list: Hanukkah, Winter Solstice, Bodhi Day, Kwanza, Hogmanay, Sadeh, Eid ul-Adha, and Christmas… last on the list. He muttered to Lorelai, "You know what in the world these holidays even are?"

Lorelai glanced over at his program, "Well, I know Christmas and Hanukkah," she joked.

"Yeah, I got those two, but what about the rest of these?"

Lorelai shrugged and batted her eyelashes at him. She looked puzzled at the blank look she got in return. Holding up the white fuzzy trim on the sleeve of her red sweater and shaking her hair that was pulled back with a matching fuzzy scrunchie, she smiled even bigger. "Oh, come on. You know I look cute. Now smile damn it."

Luke shook his head but couldn't keep the corners of his mouth from turning up ever so slightly, and Lorelai saw the twinkle in his eyes. "You shouldn't curse in an elementary school," he playfully admonished her. "It might get you sent to the Principal's office."

She put her arm around the back of his chair and leaned her head on his shoulder. "The show will be amusing at least, and probably full of angst and drama. Put this many little kids in costumes they can't get out of and stick them on stage… My money's on two of them wetting their pants and at least one running from the stage in tears."

"You're awful, you know that?" he asked.

"I know, and you love me anyway, so what does that say about you?" she teased back.

Luke pushed back the sleeve of his blue dress shirt and looked at his watch. "So how much longer 'til this extravaganza begins?"

Lorelai sat up and turned to Sookie, "How much longer?"

"Don't know," Sookie replied with a shrug. "They're starting with the kindergarteners so it's a little like herding cats."

"As well I recall," Lorelai commented with a knowing look.

Sookie took a deep breath, shook her shoulders back and forth and rolled her neck around. "At least I'll be able to relax once Davey's finished."

"He'll be fine. He's a real trooper that one," Lorelai reassured her.

Jackson anxiously looked around the room, a camera clutched in each hand. He turned to Sookie. "You're doing stills and I'm doing video, right?"

"That's what we decided on earlier, but we can switch if you want," his wife offered, her voice getting higher as her anxiety set in again.

Jackson shook his head, "No. You're not really up to speed on the new camera. I'll be fine."

"You're sure? You do have a tendency to shake?" she commented.

"I stayed up all night reading the manual. I'm sure," Jackson replied, squaring his shoulders. "I haven't had any sugar or caffeine all day. I should be good."

Sookie laid a reassuring hand on his arm. "You haven't had any food since breakfast either."

"I'm good," he assured her as the lights dim.

"Here we go," Lorelai whispered to Luke as she reached down and squeezed his leg.

"So Davey's up first then we have to sit through all these other acts with kids in them we don't even know?"

"That's pretty much the way it works," Lorelai explained.

Luke emitted a low grumbling sound that made Lorelai laugh as the curtain came up on a snowy forest setting and the jingling of bells were heard from off stage.

The proud parents hurried to get out in the aisle for a clear shot of the stage. Jackson tripped on the chair leg and went down on one knee, Sookie smashed into him from behind and in her effort to keep from tumbling over his back crashed down into the folding chair on the end of the row with a loud clatter. Several people all around them made shushing noises which Sookie echoed back as Jackson crawled into the aisle and pointed the video camera at the stage. Sookie leaned out into the aisle and glanced over at Jackson's camera then poked him on the shoulder repeatedly. Finally getting his attention she mouthed 'lens cap' which he from his puzzled expression he clearly didn't understand. She mouthed it again over exaggerating the words. He still didn't understand. Finally she put the digital camera down in her lap and took the video camera from him removed the cap and handed it back.

Jackson took the camera with an "Oh."

Meanwhile three kindergarteners dressed as snowflakes danced out onto the stage and collided going down in a heap. The rest of the children stepped over and around them happily singing "Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way…"

* * *

_We would like to thank those who took the time to review - it means a great deal to us to know that you are enjoying our versionof Season 8 and that you take the time to tell us so! Thanks to carterfinley, B. Alex Milligan, RiskaSG, Loridhhp, lilienprinzessin, LorLukealways, Ann Y. Mous, and Mary. We appreciate all of you!_


	11. Omnipotent Is Not Immortal

**Omnipotent Is Not Immortal **

"Mom," Lorelai called out, finding the front door to her parents' house open. Standing in the doorway, she hesitated going inside. The lights were on but there seemed to be no one around. "Mom," she called out again. Finally deciding to step inside, she remained standing in the middle of the foyer for a moment. Nothing looked different. It all looked the same. So why was no one around?

She shrugged off her coat and walked into the living room. Laying her coat across the back of the couch, she placed her purse on top of it. "Mom … Dad," she called again. Still no one responded. Turning around, she found the drink cart to be stocked. There was even a bucket of ice that clearly must have been set just out minutes ago.

"I know someone has got to be here," she spoke to no one in particular, looking around the living room before finally walking into the dining room. The table was set just as it was every Friday night. She found it odd that only two place settings were laid out but perhaps the maid hadn't finished yet. Suddenly, an idea came to mind and she quickly walked into the kitchen. Surely the maid or the cook would know what was going on. However the room was also empty.

Everything in the kitchen was put away neatly in its proper place. It almost looked as if no one had even cooked dinner. Yet that wasn't possible. Her parents had to be home. It was Friday night. Friday night dinner. And the front door had been open.

The front door had been open. Suddenly, a cold chill washed over her. The front door had been wide open. And now the house was totally silent, no signs of anyone. Feeling her heart beat racing, she rushed from the kitchen, through the dining room, and into the hallway that led to the den and her father's study. The door was closed and she hesitated for a moment. The light was on inside and she wondered if she should call out or open the door or what she should do. Looking around the hallway, she spotted a bulky crystal vase sitting on a pedestal. Shuffling a few feet to pick it up, she snatched the flowers from it and threw them to the floor. Grasping it around the wide base, she proceeded slowly down the hallway.

She didn't really know what she could do with a vase but it was better than nothing. Tentatively opening the door to the study, she sighed when she found it empty. Still clutching the vase, she made her way down the hall to the den. It was also empty.

"Where the hell are you people?" she sighed. Walking back into the main foyer, she debated going upstairs.

Finally deciding to just go up, she kept the vase in front of her, still not quite sure what she could do with it. She stopped in her tracks when she heard the sound of footsteps. Slowly backing down the stairs, she nearly dropped the vase when he father rounded the landing.

"Oh my God," she breathed, falling back against the wall as she took in a deep breath.

Richard looked almost as surprised as she was, "Lorelai … what are you doing here?"

"It is Friday night," she reminded him. "I'm here for dinner."

Richard looked at her strangely. "We haven't had Friday night dinners for years now…"

"We had one just last week," she argued. "Dad, what is going on? Where is Mom?"

"Your mother is gone, Lorelai," Richard reminded her, his voice full of sadness.

"Gone? Gone where?" she demanded.

"Lorelai," Richard spoke softly. "She's gone," he repeated.

"No, I just saw her not three hours ago at work," she insisted.

"Lorelai…" he interrupted but she refused to listen.

She walked up the few steps to where her father was standing, shoving the vase into his hands. "I know she is here," she insisted, storming past him up the stairs and down the main hallway. "Mom!" she called out.

Lorelai walked in a fury, opening the doors to various rooms as she went on her way. When she didn't find her mother, she continued on to the next one. She threw the door open to her parents' bedroom, but she found the main area empty. Storming into the dressing area, she was shocked to find Rory sitting on the lounge, surrounded by cardboard boxes.

She rose as her mother stood in the doorway. "Mom, what are doing here?" Rory asked.

"What am I doing here? What are _you_ doing here?" Lorelai demanded. "You're supposed to be in Poughkeepsie tonight."

"No, I'm not," Rory frowned. "I've been helping Grandpa go through Grandma's stuff," she reminded her. "He's finally decided that it is time."

"Why would you be doing that?"

"Well, Grandpa thought she might want some of her clothes to be donated to people that can use them now that she's gone," Rory stated.

"Gone? Everyone keeps saying that. My mother is not gone. I just saw her at work!" Lorelai nearly screamed.

"Mom," Rory stated in the same tone Richard had used just minutes ago.

"No," Lorelai insisted, "she's not gone! She's not gone," she repeated.

"Lorelai, Lorelai …" came Luke's voice. She turned around but he was nowhere to be found.

Luke pushed himself up into a seated position, shaking Lorelai more forcefully until she opened her eyes.

"What … huh … Luke," she mumbled, rolling onto her back as she squinted her eyes, realizing that she was in her bedroom at home in Star's Hollow.

"Are you all right?" Luke asked, concerned. Lorelai had never been one to have bad dreams.

"Uhm … yeah, I guess," she stammered. "I … don't know," she finally admitted.

"Do you need something to drink?" he suggested, about to get out of bed.

"No," Lorelai stated quickly, grabbing his arm to prevent him from getting up.

"Ok," he reassured her. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I don't know," she replied, moving to sit up next to Luke. "I had this dream. It was so real."

"You seem pretty shaken up by it," he commented.

"I'm fine," Lorelai insisted, running her hands over her face.

"Do you remember the dream?" he asked as she lay back down.

"No," she lied, not wanting to talk about it just yet. There was too much that didn't make sense to talk about it for now. "I'm fine. I promise. Go back to sleep," she insisted.

"Lorelai…"

"I'm fine," she stated again in a more reassuring tone, running her hand down Luke's arm. He looked at her for a few moments more before finally giving in and moving to lie back down.

Lorelai shifted her body to lie against his and Luke slid his arm around her shoulders, her head resting against his chest. Within a few short minutes, she could tell that he was asleep. However, she couldn't fall back asleep. Too many thoughts were running through her mind to allow her any peace.

* * *

Lorelai lay in bed, looking up at the ceiling as Luke slept. She was tired. She was worn out, actually. She had finally gotten to sleep around four o'clock this morning. However the two hours she'd slept hadn't been peaceful. Now it was midnight and she could not stop thinking about her dream and what it meant. In fact, she had been rather unproductive all day. Luckily, her mother had taken the day off. It was just her and Michel most of the day. A few guests had checked out. She had eaten lunch with Andy in the kitchen. Yet she'd gotten nothing substantive accomplished all day. That damn dream. Why was it bothering her so much? It was just a dream. A stupid, silly, bizarre dream. A pointless dream. So, then why was she still thinking about it? And why couldn't – or wouldn't? – she fall asleep?

Pulling the sheet up to her underarms, she ran her hand over it to smooth it out. That wasted all of five seconds and she rolled her head to look at Luke who was facing away from her. He was sound asleep. Grasping the sheet so that she could change position, she moved onto her side and propped her head up with her hand. She was wide awake. Wide awake.

What had the dream meant? She had been wandering around her parents' house. And her mother was gone. Not just gone but dead. Why had she dreamt about her mother being dead? Sure, when she was younger she'd dreamt about it a time or two – perhaps even fantasized about a life where she had no parents. But it was all out of irrational anger and not out of any true desire to lose her mother. So how was this dream any different than just some silly, pointless childhood fantasy? Yet it bothered her. The idea really bothered her. Why? Why did she care so much about what had happened in the dream? It was a dream, not reality.

It meant something. It had to mean something. Dreams always mean something. But what could this mean? She felt lost? No, that didn't make sense. She had been wandering around the house but not because she was lost. She couldn't find her parents. But then she had found her father. And she'd found Rory too. It was her mother that she couldn't find. It was her mother who was gone. She had been frantic to find her mother. Frantic. Worried. Scared. It had felt so real and overwhelming.

"Luke," she called out, reaching her hand forward to shake his shoulder. "Luke," she repeated, shaking him more vigorously.

He mumbled something incomprehensible before groaning and rolling onto his back. "What?" he grumbled, wearily opening his eyes. "What?" he asked again as Lorelai finally stopped shaking him.

"I can't sleep," she declared, lying flat on her back, her head against the pillow.

"You woke me up to tell me that?" he sighed, running his hands over his face and then dropping his arms to his sides.

"I can't sleep because I had a dream," she explained.

"Just now?" Luke asked, the fatigue clouding his mind. However, even awake it was often hard to follow Lorelai.

"No, last night," she finished. "I can't stop thinking about it now. And I don't know what to do."

"What was the dream about?" Luke asked, blinking his eyes a few times and turning his head to look at Lorelai. "You said last night that you didn't remember."

"I remember," Lorelai sighed. "I just didn't think it would still be bothering me this much. I couldn't get back to sleep then and I still can't sleep now."

"What was the dream about?" he asked again.

"It's complicated," Lorelai sighed, turning her head to look at Luke. "I don't even know where to begin."

"Well, you woke me up so you've got my full attention. Start at the beginning," he suggested.

Lorelai shifted her gaze to the ceiling as she recalled the dream. "I went to my parents' house for Friday night dinner. Yet when I get there the door is open and no one seems to be home. I spend like forever walking through the house and finally come across my Dad. Though when I ask where Mom is, he tells me that she's gone and we don't have Friday night dinners anymore. Then I find Rory as I'm looking for Mom and Rory is there to help Dad get rid of Mom's clothes." As she spoke, she ran her hand absently over the sheet.

Luke was silent. "So, what is upsetting you about that?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, balling up part of the sheet in her hand. "It just …. I don't know," she sighed heavily, her arms falling to her sides and making a faint slapping sound. "It just felt so real, you know? I was really worried when I couldn't find them. And then when Dad said Mom was gone …. I just … I couldn't … I couldn't accept it. I kept saying that I'd just seen her that day. Yet she wasn't there and I had to find her. I couldn't stop until I found her but she wasn't there."

Luke was silent, as was Lorelai.

"What does that mean?" she finally asked. "And why is it still bothering me? It was just a dream."

"You've had a lot going on lately," Luke reminded her. "You told me that you and your mother got into an argument last week."

"But we talked and we made up," Lorelai reminded him. "We're fine now. In fact, we're probably better than we've been in a really long time." She kicked her legs a few times to release the building frustration. "I don't know," Lorelai moaned. "I don't know. I just can't stop thinking that my mother was gone."

"You've never before had to think about what it would be like to lose her. Maybe the dream just struck too close to home," Luke suggested.

"I don't know," Lorelai repeated again. "I guess … I guess that could be it. We have grown closer lately. I mean … I kinda like having her around." It wasn't as hard to admit the next part as it might have been in the past, "She is actually kind of fun, especially when her anger and disappointment are pointed at someone else. And she is so good at getting Michel to do things that no one else can. Oh, and I never knew she had such a sense of humor. She's obviously a witty woman but she's really funny, too," Lorelai continued, finding it easier to list her mother's strengths than she had imagined. "And then when Aunt Hope was here, I learned so much about what she like when she younger. All of this stuff that I never knew and all of these stories about what she was like before she met Dad and before she had me. There is so much that I don't know about her. And I never even thought to ask."

Luke started to say something but Lorelai cut him off. "Maybe this dream was just my subconscious' way of expressing the fact that I am starting to realize there are things I don't know about my mother. That there are things I actually want to know about her," she added.

Luke remained purposefully silent, allowing Lorelai to process her thoughts on her own – she didn't really need him. She just needed someone to talk to so that she wasn't actually talking to herself, though she really was doing just that.

"I just … I've never realized that she might not be here one day, you know? I mean, she's always here. She is the healthiest person I know. She exercises. She eats right. I swear she's healthier than I am. And when Rory was at Chilton and Yale, she was always there. Always. Parents weekends, school events, everything. She had the school newsletters read the day they came in the mail. She knew all the events and the stuff that was going on at both schools. She was just always there. I guess that I just assumed she'd outlive us all."

"Your mother may seem omnipotent but she's not immortal," Luke noted.

"I just … I just never took the time to get to know her until now. I've spent so much time purposefully keeping her out of my life. Yet I like having her help with the wedding and working at the Inn. I just never imagined that I'd actually want her opinion on something, let alone be working side by side with her every day. I don't know how to deal with that. My whole adult life has been spent going against everything she stands for."

"So, you like your mother, what's the big deal?" Luke shrugged. Lorelai turned to look at Luke incredulously. "As far as mothers go, she's not that bad. Sure, she's rather intense … demanding and often intimidating, but she's not that bad overall. She clearly loves you," he pointed out.

"Yeah," Lorelai spoke quietly. "It's just been a really long time since I've actually faced the fact that I love her too."

* * *

"Since when have you had the right to tell me what to wear?" Emily asked, her hand defiantly perched upon her hip. Her other hand clutched the doorknob as she stood in the doorway to his office.

"You've never dressed inappropriately before," he commented, looking up at her over the top of his reading glasses.

"This blouse is not inappropriate, Richard. It's Chanel," she spoke, as if the fact that it was haute couture made it more acceptable.

"I don't care who makes it. You're not wearing it." He pulled his glasses from his face and dropped them onto the book in front of him.

"Excuse me?" Her voice rose a note higher as she glared at him. "You are not serious," she scoffed.

"My wife is not going to parade around town dressed like …this," he stated with a wave of his hand.

"I can't believe we are even discussing this," she remarked, feeling her annoyance rising.

"Frankly, neither can I," he added.

"I'm going to work," she stated, turning to walk away.

"No, you're not," Richard insisted, rising from his seat.

Clenching her fists, she turned around slowly to face him once again. "Why don't you explain to me how you're going to stop me, Richard? Are you going to drag me up to my room and lock the door? Take away my car keys? Ground me for a week?" she mocked.

"Now you're acting ridiculous!" he declared. It was pointless to discuss anything with her when she started acting like this.

"So are you!" Emily retorted.

"Emily…"

"Fine," she spat. "Give me a reasonable explanation of what exactly is wrong with this blouse. You've never had a problem with my wardrobe in the past. So, I want a decent explanation."

"It's too revealing," he stated simply, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It is a v-neck. It reveals nothing," she replied.

"Well, perhaps not," he admitted, crossing over to where she was standing, "but the way it is cut comes down rather suggestively." Emily raised her eyebrows, about to challenge him once again but she remained silent as his hand rested upon her hip. "And then way it clings to your chest and curves…"

"I'm over sixty years old, Richard. I doubt that anyone other than you is going to notice that."

"Lots of men notice you," he replied.

Her mood changed from annoyed to pleasantly surprised in a matter of seconds. Yet she refused to release the smile that was threatening to cross her lips, realizing why he found the shirt to be so inappropriate. Deciding to go along with him, she asked, "Well, would you like me to take the blouse off?"

"No," he replied, his other arm snaking around her back and pulling her closer to him. "I'd rather you leave it on for now." His voice was a low growl and she couldn't help but grin as his lips searched her neck and his body rubbed against hers.

"I'm going to be late," she commented, though she didn't particularly care about the time. Dipping her head back, she enjoyed his attention.

"There's got to be a perk in being part owner," Richard mumbled, one of his hands working its way down to her behind as he held her against him.

"You know Lorelai teases me mercilessly," she pleaded, already trying to think up a good excuse to explain what would surely be her late arrival.

"You're going to be late as is." His hands moved to her waist and began tugging the blouse from her skirt, fumbling with the button that held the waist band closed in the back.

"Why don't we go upstairs?" Emily suggested, moving her hands behind her back to cover his as they pulled at the zipper on her skirt.

"We don't need to go upstairs," he insisted.

"You can't be serious," she scoffed. "The maid could come in at any moment."

"Lock the door," he instructed her, letting go of her so that she could do so.

Emily eyed him cautiously for a moment, debating with herself if she should give in or not. After a few seconds, she knew that she could never resist for very long. She grasped her skirt with her hand, keeping it from sliding down as she walked the short distance to the door. As she shut the wooden door and turned the lock, she felt Richard directly behind her. Allowing him to turn her around, she smiled sweetly. "Mr. Gilmore," she breathed. Within seconds, Richard pushed her against the door, his lips covering hers hungrily.

* * *

"Thanks for bringing everything over, Joe," Lorelai smiled at the Dragonfly's favorite party supply deliveryman. "Can you come back in a couple of hours to pick it all up?"

"Sure. Sure," Joe answered with a grin. "Anything for my favorite clients. Thank you again for the lovely dinner on Saturday night. Lori hasn't been able to talk about anything since. Is Mrs. Gilmore here? I'd really like to thank her too."

"No she's not," Lorelai replied with a slight edge of irritation in her voice. "I'm not sure where she is. She was supposed to be here quite a while ago to help me figure out all these table setting thingies for the wedding." Lorelai looked around the room at the six different tables in various stages of being set, raised her arms out and then dropped them to her sides in frustration. Marie was standing off to one side staring at the silver candlestick she'd just unwrapped with a very puzzled expression. Focusing her gaze back to the young man standing next to her, Lorelai tried her best to smile. "I'm sorry. I'm sure my mother will be here when you come back to pick everything up. I know she'll be happy to see you."

"Sounds good. See you later," Joe said with a wave as he headed for the backdoor.

"Later, Joe," Lorelai called after him. Then she looked back at Marie, who had unwrapped another three silver colored candlesticks. "Don't worry about it," she said with a sigh. "We'll figure it out when my Mom gets here…whenever that will be."

Marie looked defeated. "I just don't understand. I mean on her notes here it all looks so simple but I can't tell which is which," she explained.

"Hey, they all look the same to me too," Lorelai remarked with a shrug. "I mean sure, that one's taller, and that one's fatter," she pointed to each one as she spoke, "and this guy here has the little square dealy-boo… but… Seriously, don't worry about it. Why don't we both go get a cup of coffee and if she's still not here by then –"

"Who's not here by when?" Emily's voice asked from the doorway.

Lorelai jumped and gasped. "Oh …my…God. You always scare the crap out of me."

"Just the words a mother longs to hear," Emily quipped. She then turned to Marie. "It looks like you've got a good start on the tables. Keep unpacking everything and I'll be back to help you once I put my things in the office." She turned and started to walk away.

"Not so fast," Lorelai tried to cut off her mother's quick exit. "Where were you?"

Emily only turned halfway back toward her daughter. "What does it matter? I'm here now. Just let me put away my coat and purse and we'll get these tables together in no time." Not waiting for her daughter to stop her again, she strode purposefully away.

Lorelai and Marie finished unpacking all the place settings and candlesticks and other tableware and arranged it on one long table ready to be put into the correct location. The various sizes, styles, and finishes of candlesticks all sitting at one end. Marie had to leave to clean one of the guest rooms for an early check in. True to her word, Emily was back moments later.

As soon as her mother entered the room, Lorelai was on the alert, her eyes glittering mischievously. She knew something was up and that something was a topic her mother did not want to discuss, so of course Lorelai could think of nothing else. "So… Mom… everything okay"

Emily looked up from the sheer white table topper she was examining, comparing it with another of a similar shade, noticing that both had tiny little flecks of silver throughout. She seemed puzzled by the question. "Of course it is Lorelai."

"Well, it's just that it's not like you to be late," Lorelai explained trying just a bit too hard to sound sincere, "and you didn't call or anything. I was worried."

Emily quickly flipped one of the toppers out into the air and guided it as it floated down on top of the matte silver tablecloth. "Well, I certainly didn't mean to worry you, Lorelai," she answered, her just a bit too polite tone mirroring Lorelai's.

Lorelai watched as her mother picked up a stack of silver chargers and began to place them around the table. Grabbing up a stack of plain white plates with a silver band, she asked, "These?"

Emily answered, "Yes," while retrieving the flatware for this arrangement and beginning to set the table.

Lorelai started on the plates and followed her mother closely around the table. "So … where were you?"

"Where was I when?" her mother asked, not looking up from the task at hand.

Her daughter rolled her eyes, "Where were you when you were supposed to be here?"

Finishing the flatware and not making eye contact Emily turned to the table and chose a set of stemware. "I was home."

Behind Emily's back Lorelai's grin grew larger. "Ah…"

"Ah what?" Emily questioned.

"What were you doing at home?" Lorelai asked.

"Something came up," Emily answered abruptly placing one complete set of stemware on the table, wine glass, champagne flute, and water glass. Lorelai picked up a matching set and put them at the next seat. Seeing that her daughter was finishing up the glasses, Emily moved on to the candlesticks. She chose a set of three different heights but matching candlesticks all in a very shinny silver finish.

As Emily arranged them in the middle of the table, Lorelai asked casually, "So you and Dad enjoy having the house back to yourselves now that Aunt Hope is gone?"

"Lorelai, really," Emily scolded.

"Oh, come on, Mom. You're almost two hours late… you won't give any reason… you say you were at home…besides, you're looking pretty hot today," Lorelai observed suggestively. "I'm sure that Dad noticed."

Glancing quickly down at the blouse that had caused such a stir this morning, Emily did her best not to smile. Quietly she picked up a box of candles and went about putting a long taper into each candlestick. "These will have to be cut down of course, but this will give us an idea."

"Really, Mom. You want us to be more than just mother and daughter? You want us to be friends? This is what friends do," Lorelai explained.

Emily's eyes widened as she gaped at her daughter in horror.

Lorelai quickly held up her hands. "Ew… no… don't look at me like that, I don't want any details or anything. I just … I don't know… I guess I just wanted to tease you a little bit."

Emily looked back down at the candles in her hand, turning one over and over in the box. "I just don't know how to do this."

Lorelai reached out and put her hand on Emily's shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile. "You don't have to do anything, Mom. So, what's next?" she asked gesturing to the next table.

Grateful that her daughter had given them both a graceful way out of their awkward moment, Emily answered, "Well, I was thinking the brushed nickel for this next one."

"Sounds great," Lorelai replied brightly then looked over to the table filled to overflowing with party supplies. "Which one is brushed nickel?"

* * *

_Thanks to B. Alex Milligan, Loridhhp, RiskaSG, SheilaBryant, LorLukealways, Mary, and Ann Y. Mous for your reviews. We do appreciate them!_


	12. Finally Learning the Past

_Well, it looks like we've once again reached the end of our journey for Emily and Lorelai. But don't worry - they'll be back for more!_

* * *

**_Finally Learning the Past_**

Lorelai pulled her unbuttoned corduroy jacket tighter as she walked past the town square. Her knit gloves kept the bite in the air from reaching her fingertips, but her nose was stinging. She looked up at the cloudless sky in irritation. If it were only cloudy it would be snowing and it was long past time for snow. She missed snow. The fluffy white flakes she'd tried to catch on her tongue as long as she could remember, the dusting of powder that made ordinary everyday trees look somehow magical, the frozen crunch under her feet, she missed it all.

It felt like the lack of snow was somehow feeding her mood, a mood that had been on edge since that damn dream. No matter what she did, how she kept herself busy, images from it would pop into her head when she was least expecting it, like now. Here she was walking through her favorite part of town freshly decorated for the holidays, a steaming cup of Luke's hot coffee in her hand. This was her favorite time of year and even with the lack of snow, she should be excited about Christmas. She was always excited about Christmas. Hell she was less than three weeks away from marrying the man she'd been in love with for basically her entire adult life. She should be walking on air instead of struggling with this continual feeling of … of what? She couldn't really put a name to it, it wasn't fear or loss. It was something more removed, more abstract, a feeling like there was something bad about to happen. A foreboding? No, that sounded way too ominous, too doom and gloom. This wasn't doom and gloom. It was like things were going too well on one level, while all the stuff, all the currents underneath the calm glassy surface were churning and about to burst free.

That was it, all that stuff long buried, the stuff between her and her mother. Even though they had talked more than ever before about the past and about putting it behind them, they hadn't actually done it. They'd gone back to their old habit of very skillfully ignoring it. Sure she'd teased her mother for being late and for what she and her father were likely doing to make her late, but underneath it all she'd actually started to worry. Emily Gilmore was never late to anything anywhere, much less an appointment, even if it were just with her daughter. She'd been really worried that something bad had happened. That's what had set off this last round of flashes from the dream, before that she'd forgotten it for a couple of days.

There was still so much unresolved, unsaid between them, but she didn't know what to say or how to resolve it. Even wanting to resolve everything once and for all was a new feeling that she didn't quite understand. They'd all been so good for so long at just pretending those things hadn't really happened. Sure they'd crop up a few times a year, there would be yelling and then they'd settle back into their normal pattern. Why was that not okay anymore? Why couldn't she just let it just sink back into the depths again?

She'd tried talking to her mother, maybe it was time to talk to her father. Who knew her mother better than he did? Maybe he'd have an idea of what to do to finally fix things. Suddenly her pace quickened, now she had a plan. This felt good. It felt like a step. She smiled and took a sip of her coffee and enjoyed the warm feeling it brought all the way down to her stomach.

* * *

Lorelai smiled at the tall blonde maid as she opened the front door of her parent's house. "Hi. I'm Lorelai."

"Mr. Gilmore is expecting you, Miss. He's in his study," the woman answered as she took Lorelai's coat.

"Thank you…" Lorelai replied, waiting for the woman to fill in her name. It seemed her mother had once again begun the revolving door of maids.

"Gretchen," she answered politely.

"Well, thank you, Gretchen." Lorelai turned and walked toward the study. She briefly wondered how long this maid would last. Once she reached the doorway and saw her father sitting at his desk, she became nervous. She hadn't been nervous on the drive over, but it finally hit her that she had no real idea what to say or what to ask. She wondered if her father would even understand what she was talking about. Maybe she should just forget it after all and go home, but then stuck in that moment of hesitation in the doorway her father looked up.

"Good morning, Lorelai," he greeted her with a broad smile as he stood up and walked around his desk.

Taking a deep breath, Lorelai took a step into the room. "Morning, Dad."

Richard walked up to her and gestured her into the room. "Come in. Sit down."

She walked over to the leather sofa and paused in front of it.

Richard began to follow her into the room then stopped, suddenly having remembered his duties as a host. "Would you like coffee or anything?"

"No," she answered. Intentionally having to tell her legs to bend, she slowly sat down on the sofa.

Richard sat opposite her in a large leather wing back chair and rested his elbows on the arms. After a moment of silence he prompted her, "You wished to discuss something?"

"Um… yeah… I did, Dad," she began. "I'm not really sure where to start. I was hoping you could give me some advice on something, I guess."

Richard smiled reassuringly at his daughter. "If I'm able. Is this something related to the Inn? An insurance matter?"

"No. No. It's not anything business related. Business is great." Lorelai paused and looked down at her hands, folding and refolding them in her lap. Her father remained quiet, waiting for her to continue. "I wanted to talk to you about Mom," she finally admitted, not looking up at him until after she'd said it.

"I thought things were going well between the two of you?" he asked.

Lorelai nodded. "They are. Really, well, mostly, but there just feels like there's this …this…" her hands came up gesturing as though she could find the right word in the air somewhere, "…thing. I can't really explain it. It's like we've actually gotten closer, but there's this thing… this…" her hands were gesturing again "this wall still between us that just keeps getting in the way of everything."

"A wall?" he asked quietly, leaning forward. He could tell she was truly upset by this and he wanted to make every effort to understand her. After all, she was his little girl and she had come to him for help. He would do whatever it took to help her. "What do you think this wall is?"

Lorelai sighed, her hands flopping down to her sides. "What isn't it? It's me getting pregnant, me not following the plan, me leaving, it's all of it."

Richard nodded but remained silent.

Lorelai took a deep breath. "I just think that somehow, some way we finally have to put it behind us."

"I don't know if that's possible," Richard replied thoughtfully.

Not being able to sit still any longer, she rose and began to walk around. "But there has to be something. This can't be how it is for the rest of our lives. I can't accept that. I won't accept that. It's not working anymore."

Lorelai was pacing frantically around the room, her eyes blazing with emotion and Richard was stunned by her resemblance to her mother in that moment.

She paused behind his desk chair and forcefully grasped the back with her hands. "What if something happens? What if something happens to Mom and we never work this out?"

Richard rose and made an effort to calm her down. "Nothing is going to happen to your mother."

"You can't promise that," she countered almost yelling with the forcefulness of the statement. "You don't know."

"Lorelai, calm down," he approached her slowly, afraid of making her even more upset than she clearly was.

She let go of the chair and walked around the other side of it away from him, her hands balled into fists. "I had this dream… this awful dream… and you told me…" she spun around and confronted him, tears glistening in her eyes. "You told me she was gone. Mom was dead. You can't promise that that won't happen for real. Someday it will."

Richard was shocked by how distraught she had become and how much what she was saying had affected him. He didn't know how he would react if he'd had the dream she described. No wonder she was so upset. He did his best to keep his own fears at bay so that he could reassure his daughter. He stepped slowly toward her again. "Yes, that's true, but you know yourself it's not likely to happen anytime soon." This time as he got closer Lorelai remained still. He chanced another step. Lorelai bit her lip and blinked back the tears stubbornly refusing to cry. Oh she truly was her mother's girl. Gently placing his hand on her upper arm, he steered her into one of the chairs facing his desk then leaned against the desk in front of her.

Lorelai dropped her head into her hands, elbows resting on the chair arms. She tucked her hair behind her ears and looked up at her father. "I feel like we need to talk about that time… when I left… like we somehow have to finally understand each other's sides of things or something, but every time I bring it up with her she shuts me out."

Richard remembered all too well what that time had done to the woman he loved. That had been the worst time in their marriage, worse by far than their separation. He'd actually thought back then that he'd lose her. That she'd just give up on life. "You have to accept that that isn't something your mother can talk about."

"Why?" she questioned desperate to understand. "Why can't she talk about it? It wasn't a picnic for me either you know, but I'm willing to talk about it."

Richard struggled to keep his own old anger at Lorelai for hurting Emily, for hurting them both that deeply, at bay for the moment. "I don't think you fully appreciate what your leaving did to her."

"So tell me," she pleaded. "Somebody please tell me."

Richard looked away from her for a moment, his memories of that time flooding back.

Lorelai tried to calm her voice. "You told me once before that she didn't get out of bed for a month. That has to be an exaggeration." She didn't want to bring her Aunt into this, so she decided to stick with what he'd told her himself.

"An exaggeration? That wasn't even half of it," he bit back at her, his voice low and tinged with bitterness. He took a calming breath before continuing in what he hoped to be a more civil tone, still looking straight out and not down at her. Clearly he was seeing what had happened back then in his mind. "Lorelai, all I can tell you is that I genuinely feared for your mother's health and well being. There were times she would not speak," he paused, struggling to keep the deep emotion out of his voice, "… for days." He took another breath and continued more dispassionately, clinically, "She ate only sporadically. She wouldn't dress or leave the room. On the rare occasions she left our bedroom, I would invariably find her in yours, sometimes weeping sometimes just staring out your window. I grew accustomed to the weeping, but it was when she wasn't weeping or showing any emotion at all that concerned me the most. I knew she didn't want anyone to know that you had left, but I finally had to tell someone. I tracked down your Aunt Hope, she and Gerard were in Ethiopia leading the famine relief effort. It took nearly two weeks for me to get word to her and for her to get here. Two weeks where I thought I'd lose my mind. Finally she was able to get through to your mother and coax her back to us."

Lorelai stared at her father as he spoke, the enormity of it all washing over her. She'd had no idea. No idea that anything could affect her mother that deeply. Brushing at the tears that streamed silently down her cheeks, she asked tentatively, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Richard saw for the first time remorse on his daughter's face instead of anger. "What would you have done?" he asked flatly.

"I would have come back," she answered sternly. She was beginning to get angry that she'd been kept in the dark all these years.

Richard sighed. He'd agonized at the time whether to find Lorelai and drag her back, to show her what she'd done to her mother. "Perhaps you would have. I'd like to think so. You have no idea how many times I got into the car to go get you and bring you home. We all made mistakes. It does no good to second guess them now."

Lorelai again wiped at the tears from her face. "I suppose you're right." She stood up and walked toward the door. Suddenly overwhelmed by a need to make him understand, she turned back to her father. "I really would have come back, Dad."

He nodded to her. For all her problems as a teenager, she had always been a very compassionate girl. He did believe she would have come back, but he doubted it would have been a long term fix to their problems.

She turned and again walked toward the door but this time his voice stopped her. She turned back from the doorway.

"If you had come back, would you have stayed?" he asked, wondering if he'd made the wrong decision all those years ago.

Lorelai took the time to consider his question. "Not indefinitely, no."

Richard nodded solemnly. "Nothing could make me happier than if you and your mother could come to some sort of understanding about all of this, but I strongly suggest when you do talk to her that you don't push her to talk about that time. She would be devastated if she knew that I had told you."

"I promise, Dad. It'll be just between you and me," she assured him, "but I'm glad you did. I think maybe I'm finally starting to understand her a little better."

"She loves you very much, Lorelai."

"I know, Dad. I know… and I love her too."

"I know that, but she's not always so sure" he explained. "The one thing you need to understand about your mother is that all that anger and yes, critical bravado of hers is a front. We need to make sure that she knows we love her, even in her most tyrannical moments, because those are the times her insecurities are the strongest."

Lorelai bit her bottom lip and nodded. She didn't trust her voice not to crack around the lump in her throat, and she knew fresh tears were about to start. Slowly she turned from the room and walked out.

Richard was left staring at the now empty doorway. His own doubts, he thought long put to rest, were resurfacing. Maybe he had done the wrong thing not telling Lorelai. He'd hired a private investigator to find her the night she'd left. Thankfully, the woman who owned the Independence Inn had called and told them where she was before the investigator had done more than a few hours of leg work. He literally had gotten into the car and started for Stars Hollow dozens of times in those first few weeks. Initially he'd been so angry that he feared he'd drive her further away. Then, he'd been worried that she would come back. That everything would be back to normal for a few months, maybe even a year before she would leave again. He hadn't thought Emily could survive losing them again. He wasn't even sure at that point she'd survive the first time. Had it been the right decision not to tell her?

* * *

Wondering where Richard had gotten off to, Emily climbed the staircase and entered the bedroom to find him sitting on the bed reading a book, at least it appeared that he was reading. She could tell that his mind was somewhere else. He had been restless and irritable ever since Lorelai left. Something had happened between the two of them, she just knew it. Sitting down gently next to him she said, "I wondered where you had gone. You didn't tell me you were coming upstairs."

Taking off his glasses and placing the book on the nightstand, he looked at her with a sad and tired expression on his face. He reached his hand up to her cheek and caressed it gently. "I'm sorry," he replied. "You were busy with the kitchen staff and I just needed a few moments to myself. You're not mad are you?"

"Of course not," she stated, resting her hand on his thigh. "I am concerned though. You just haven't seemed like yourself tonight."

"It's nothing for you to be worried about, Dear. Honestly." Taking her hand in his, he gently kissed it then got up and started toward the bathroom. "I think I'm just going to shower and get into bed. I'm exhausted and I have an early day tomorrow."

"Well, all right," Emily replied. Something was off and she strongly suspected that something was Lorelai. Not one to be deterred, she resolved to find out what exactly had her husband in such a funk.

Thirty minutes later Richard exited the bathroom clad in pajamas. Emily was already in her nightclothes, sitting in bed reading a book. He silently slipped into bed and turned off the bedside lamp. "Goodnight, Dear," he stated, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

"Richard, please. Tell me what's bothering you. If it's my work just say so. I promised that I would cut back—"

"That's not it," he assured her. "You did cut back and I appreciate it more than you know."

Emily furrowed her brow, "Then what, Richard?"

Sighing in defeat Richard looked at her. "It's just a conversation I had earlier with Lorelai."

"I knew it!" Emily exclaimed. "You've been moping around all evening and Gretchen told me she was here this morning. Everything has been going to well and she had to go and stir something up, didn't she? What was it? Another rant on her suffocating childhood? How controlling we were? How we smothered her?"

"Now Emily, It was nothing of the kind," he explained, clasping her hand in his own. Emily's disbelief was written clearly on her face. He brought her hand up to cover his heart and held it there. "You do believe me, don't you?"

The earnest look in his eyes was more than she could take, so for once Emily decided to back off. "Of course I believe you."

They smiled at each other for a moment, then he lifted her hand up to his lips and tenderly kissed the backs of her fingers. "I do love you, Emily Gilmore."

"And I love you," she replied, leaning in and kissing him gently on the mouth.

With that, she turned off her light and rolled over, unable to go to sleep. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Lorelai hurried down the hall of the Dragonfly, her eyes scanning the clipboard in her hands, when a voice she wasn't expecting to hear called out to her.

"Lorelai, I need to speak to you."

She looked up and saw her mother standing near the door to the office, a finger pointed accusingly in her direction. "Mom, what are you doing here?"

"I told you. I'm here to speak to you." Emily stepped to the side of the doorway and gestured inside.

"Gee, Mom, I'd love to but we have the Silverman baby shower starting in less than an hour and I need to make sure everything's ready."

Emily crossed her arms. "I just came from the dining room. Marie and Stuart have everything under control. You can spare a few minutes."

Lorelai lowered her head and walked through the doorway into the office muttering, "What am I six?"

"What was that, Lorelai?" Emily asked following Lorelai into the room and closing the door.

Lorelai stepped behind the desk and put down her clipboard. "Nothing, Mom. Didn't say anything."

Emily shook her head but didn't peruse it further.

"So, what's up Mom? I thought you were taking the morning off to spend with Dad?"

"I was but he's been moping around since last night and you're the reason. I know you were at the house yesterday," Emily explained then added, "The new maid couldn't keep a secret to save her life. Clearly she was not to be trusted. Now what did you say to him?"

"Mom, it was nothing really," she replied with a shrug. "Just typical father daughter stuff."

"There is nothing typical about either you or your father," she countered quickly then sank down into the guest chair with a sigh. "I'm just trying to understand what's going on and he won't tell me. I was hoping you'd know."

Lorelai immediately felt guilty for causing further problems for her parents. She still hadn't come to terms with everything she'd learned the day before and her mother's concerns made her feel responsible for whatever was going on now. "Mom, really, I'm sure it's nothing. Why don't you go back home. Did you have any specific plans for today?"

"I was going to see if I could convince your father to go Christmas shopping with me. I know how he hates to shop, but I found something very special that I wanted to get for Rory and I thought he'd enjoy that."

"Well, go," Lorelai encouraged. "Tell him about it. He's wild about Rory I'm sure that will perk him right out of his funk."

"I'll give it a try," Emily replied, standing up and opening the door. She turned halfway and looked back over her shoulder at her daughter. "Thank you."

Lorelai smiled reassuringly at her. "Hey… that's what friends are for."

Their eyes locked for a moment. Emily's face registering only a fraction of the emotions she was feeling, but more than enough for Lorelai to understand how deeply they were felt. She then turned and walked down the hallway.

* * *

_Thank you to Branda, Loridhhp, swimmerluver, LorLukealways, Carterfinley, and Mary. We appreciate the reviews and the time you all took to read our story. We hope you've enjoyed it and that you'll stick around with us for the next installment. However, it may be a few weeks as we are still in the midst of the writing process._


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